The Stranger
by CurbysNephew
Summary: A narration of the events in season 2's 'The Collector,' followed by a twisted alternate outcome for the boys. Murphy and 10K find themselves held captive by a sick, cruel, heartless stranger. 10K learns he doesn't hate Murphy as much as he thought, and Murphy realizes he wants 10K to be alright. Will contain predatory slash, warnings inside.
1. Prisoners

**Title:** The Stranger

 **Rating:** T for now

 **Summary:** A narration of the events in season 2's 'The Collector,' followed by a twisted alternate outcome for the boys. Murphy and 10K find themselves held captive by a cruel, heartless showman. 10K learns he doesn't hate Murphy as much as he thought, and Murphy realizes he wants 10K to be alright.

 **Warnings:** Will contain some one-sided, predatory slash. No sex, no hardcore. No like=no read.

 **Chapter One**

 **"Prisoners"**

10K crossed the street in a crouching run, his gun held tightly against his front, his eyes sweeping his surroundings carefully as he went. A 'Z' staggered along the sidewalk a hundred yards away, too far to notice 10K was nearby, and the boy hugged the wall of buildings when he got to them, staying as silent as he could. There was no sign of Murphy anywhere, but he hadn't expected the man to float out of the woodwork. If Murphy didn't want to be found, 10K was willing to bet it would take an army to find him, and even then they might come up empty.

He crept along the sidewalk, eyes sharp. Ahead of him, a Z had made its way up the front steps of a residential building. The creature was flailing his arms against the glass pane of the door, growling and snarling the way most Z's did. As quietly as possible, 10K approached the stairs from behind, raising his rifle in front of him. To his surprise, the Z didn't notice his presence in the least, and in two quick steps he had climbed the stairs and delivered a sharp blow to the back of its head, sending it to the ground. 10K breathed deeply, watching the Z for a moment to make sure it wouldn't move again, and then he looked up through the glass pane to the interior of the building, shielding his eyes against the light to try and see inside the large house.

To his great astonishment, he caught sight of a person inside, sitting on the stairwell. The man had seen him too, and 10K went somewhat still, his caution getting the better of him for just a moment. He saw the man place a hand behind his back, and the action sparked a higher level of caution in his mind, but he didn't move as the man inside made his way slowly down the stairs toward the door.

He shifted his weight, watching the man until they were standing close to each other, with only the wooden door and the glass between them.

The stranger widened his eyes demandingly. "Yes?" He said abruptly, staring at 10K.

10K found his voice. "I'm looking for a friend," he explained, loud enough to be heard from the other side of the door. His eyes flicked up to a fresh bruise forming on the stranger's left temple, and back to the man's face.

"Haven't seen anybody," said the stranger with a tense shake of his head, still eyeing 10K beadily.

Feeling a sense of disappointment, 10K gave him another strange look before turning to leave. That moment an intuitive feeling struck him, and he turned back to the door, looking once more at the fresh bruise on the stranger's head. "He's a tall guy—kinda weird, bluish skin…?" he pressed further, studying the man carefully.

"Bluish fella? Is he ill?" the man responded, seemingly casual, but there was something about the way he stood there, and the way he looked at 10K, that made the boy's skin prickle. He hesitated, glancing behind him to the street, and back at the man.

"Is there anyone else in this town?" He asked, frowning slightly.

The man shook his head slowly. "Nobody."

10K stared at him, now definitely put on edge. There was something going on here… something was wrong.

"Anywhere else my friend might've gone?"

"Sorry…" the man replied, still watching 10K with that strange expression. "Good luck…"

10K gave a short nod and backed away, jogging down the stairs turning the corner, moving out of sight of the door, but he didn't continue down the street. He turned to look at as much of the building as he could see from where he was now, biting his lip as he drew closer to the wall. Something was wrong here… but he didn't know what it was.

Without waiting another moment he shrugged his rifle off his shoulder and laid it against the wall behind some hedges, drawing a handgun from his belt. Holding the gun out in front of him, he took off at a careful jog around the corner of the place, searching for another way in. Before long he spotted what he was looking for: a side door. Testing it, he found that it was locked. He quickly pulled a small pin out from his pocket and set to work picking the lock. It only took him about five minutes before he heard the familiar click as the tumblers fell into place, and the side door swung inward. Stuffing the pin back into his pocket, 10K slipped inside and closed the door behind him. He cast around the large expanse, noticing a stairwell against the opposite wall and keeping his gun held firmly before him as he made his way silently to the stairs. At the landing there was no other option but to continue upward into the darkness of the second floor hallway. He crested the stairs and made his way toward the only point of light he could see, which shone out from under a closed door in the darkness. He tested the handle, and found it unlocked. On the other side of the door, he came out into another hallway, smaller and more cramped, lined on both sides with metal shelves and a few sinks built into the wall. Beyond them the hallway opened up again into a spacious area, decorated with real stuffed foxes and other dead wildlife on tables. He passed a few posters that seemed to have been set up to decorate this area of the house, posters of movies, and sideshows, all of them hung with care on fresh-looking easels.

"Murphy?" 10K hissed, moving silently.

There was another staircase ahead, and, keeping an eye around and behind him the entire way, his hands tight around his gun, 10K started up the second set of stairs. At the top, he found himself on the outside of another unlocked door, the first door he came to. Carefully he twisted the handle and the door swung open so 10K could duck inside. Immediately, he stopped walking, staring around in confusion.

The room was lit red, filled with layers of shifting smoke that hung lightly in the air. He passed through the smoke, overly cautious, and his eyes settled on something that made his heart hammer in his chest.

A Z was standing up on a platform, in front of a gray back board that seemed to be decorated by small plaques with writing on them. A thick, black collar was tightly fastened around the creature's neck. The Z made a lunge toward 10K, who levelled his weapon to the creature's head, but there was an electric buzzing and the Z fell back, unable to leave the platform on which it stood. Staring at it in shock and confusion, 10K lowered his gun slightly and continued further into the room, past another Z on another platform. He barely noticed this one as it tried to lunge at him but was held back by an invisible force. 10K's eyes were fixed unblinkingly ahead of him now, his confusion and wariness growing more pronounced with every passing second.

Ahead of him, slumped in a chair beside a bag of thick blood, and secured by a white band around his middle, was Murphy himself.

"Murphy…?" 10K breathed, moving closer, his eyebrows drawn together in bewilderment. As he got close enough, he saw a sign pinned to the front of the platform that read 'The Murphy.' "Murphy!" 10K said more loudly, drawing even closer, "You okay?" His eyes cast around them at all the dozens of Z's, each on their own platform, all of them watching with hollow, dead eyes. "What is this?"

His eyes snapped back to Murphy, who was looking at 10K as though he barely had the strength to open his eyes. Murphy's mouth opened and his lips moved, like he was trying to form words, but no sound came out.

At that moment, the back of 10K's neck prickled and he whirled around. He didn't have time to raise his gun before a metal rod was being thrust into his stomach. He tried to yell out as surges of electricity coursed through him from head to toe, but he had dropped his gun and he was falling. Everything around him was fading quickly to black.

He returned to consciousness slowly, not remembering where he was at first as he tried to turn over. When he saw the platforms spread throughout the room, and the zombies standing on them, hovering and growling, his memory came flooding back to him. He struggled to sit up and see where Murphy was, his eyes falling on the bag of blood beside the blue-skinned man, and the stranger he'd spoken to earlier was wheeling himself toward them in a wheelchair.

"You bleed slowly," the man complained to Murphy, stopping his chair and looking up at his captive. "Anyone ever told you that before?"

10K looked at Murphy, who seemed a little stronger than before but still looked quite weak.

"Yes," Murphy growled at the stranger.

"Well, look who's Mr. Agreeable all of a sudden," the stranger said, with a note of amusement in his voice as he stood up out of the wheelchair. The man moved to the foot of Murphy's platform and bent down, picking up a thin piece of cardboard on which something had been written, but 10K couldn't see what it was.

The stranger cleared it up for him. "The Murphy, and his amazing 'Zombie Boy!" he crowed with a huge flare of showmanship, now breaking out into a full sneer.

Murphy's eyes closed and his jaw twitched. 10K stayed silent, trying to wrap his head around what was going on.

"I want to see what happens when you bite a human," the stranger continued in a lower voice. "Quit lying to me, and SHOW ME." He lowered the sign, his eyes flickering down to 10K.

10K felt his heart freeze in his chest as he realized what was being said, and the last fog of the electrocution left his mind. "Murphy, you don't have to do this—" he said, and his voice was more of a croak than he'd thought it would be.

"Yeah, he does," the stranger contradicted sharply.

"Do not let him turn me into one of those things!" said 10K more loudly, now appealing to the stranger with a sense of sudden desperation.

"One of what things?" The stranger demanded, sounding delighted, looking up at Murphy.

Murphy leveled a hard gaze on the stranger. "I don't know what he's talking about," he claimed in a low voice.

The stranger raised a hand and pressed the button on some kind of remote. Murphy stiffened and 10K collapsed back to the floor as they were both with volts of painful electricity. 10K let out a pained half-shout, landing on his back and scrabbling at his neck with both hands. There was a very heavy black collar there, the source of the shocks, and he couldn't pull it off.

Just as quickly as the electricity had begun flowing it stopped, and 10K was able to breathe again. He took deep breaths of air, trying to struggle back up to his elbows.

The stranger was glaring dangerously at Murphy, holding the remote in front of him, and a handgun had appeared in one of his hands. He gesticulated toward Murphy with it impatiently. "Patronize me again, and you will limp for the rest of your undead life!"

Murphy opened his mouth. "I'm too weak." He clasped both his hands into fists on the arms of his chair, and closed his eyes, drawing in a deep, angry breath.

The stranger pointed the gun into the air and pulled the trigger. 10K winced at the sound of the gunshot and worked even harder to sit up, looking around him for anything that could be used as a weapon.

"That was just a warning shot," said the stranger, his voice calmer now.

10K shook his head, his eyes scrunching shut. "Just kill me—" he pleaded, scared now. "Just shoot me in the head!"

"I want to see what happens," said the stranger in a chillingly calm, and almost amused tone as he turned to stare down at 10K, "When Mr. half-zombie man bites a living, breathing human being. And it's gonna happen now—" he turned back to glare at Murphy, "Or I'm gonna start putting holes in people!"

The stranger stepped up onto Murphy's platform and reached around behind the chair to undo Murphy's bindings. With a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, 10K forced himself to climb shakily to his feet, facing the two of them as Murphy stood slowly out of the chair. He looked heavily over at 10K as he lowered himself off the platform and past the stranger. "There's nothing to fear," he told 10K in a low voice.

"I don't fear you…" 10K bit back, though his voice trembled a little despite his best efforts. "I hate you. If you're the key to mankind's survival, we should all just go to hell." He swallowed hard.

"Finally, something we agree on," said Murphy in a slightly lighter tone, watching 10K as 10K stared back at him.

Their moment of frozen indecision was cut by another sharp surge of electricity as the stranger leveled his remote in their direction. Both of them stiffened and fell back a few steps, away from each other.

"I'm working here!" Murphy growled, turning to glare at the other man, who raised the remote threateningly, looking between Murphy and 10K with excited impatience.

Murphy turned back to look at 10K, slowly straightening up, his expression a mixture of coldness and heavy reluctance. "It won't be that bad," he told 10K in a low voice, taking a step closer to him.

"What you did to Cassandra was worse than death," 10K replied shakily, shifting his weight as Murphy drew nearer.

"Just let it happen, kid…" Murphy was now only a step away. "You won't be afraid anymore."

10K stared at Murphy, caught between wanting to run away and stand his ground. A split second later electricity struck him again, radiating from the collar around his neck. It was enough to send him collapsing to the floor on his back, leaving Murphy standing over him, seemingly unaffected. Without another moment of hesitation, Murphy had stepped over 10K's hips and bent down, straddling him so the boy couldn't move in either direction, bending so close that 10K could smell the man's clothes.

"No, please—Murphy, don't!" 10K struggled, trying to grab onto Murphy's hands and push them away, but Murphy was pushing down on both his shoulders with too much weight. His face was only a foot away from 10K's now.

"Don't bite him on the face! Don't bite him on the face!" The stranger's words stopped Murphy, who glared coldly over his shoulder.

"I'm tired," growled Murphy, "You took all my blood."

"Bite him on the chest. Just like yours." The stranger's face broke into a sadistic smile as he placed his own hand over his chest.

Murphy continued to glare for a moment, then turned back to look down at the boy while 10K continued to struggle under him. "It'll all be over in a second," he said quietly, staring at 10K's eyes. The boy stared back, his fingers still pulling fruitlessly against Murphy's hands on his chest.

Murphy bent down in one quick motion, placing his mouth against the fabric of 10K's shirt over his chest. He pressed his teeth lightly so that 10K could feel it.

10K lost control and struggled for his life. "No—no, no!" He gasped, turning his head to the side and trying to get out from under Murphy's bulk.

Murphy hesitated. 10K hadn't felt any skin broken when Murphy looked over his shoulder at the stranger, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Is this what you want?"

The other man laughed with sadistic excitement, nodding fervently. "Yes! Show me what it feels like to be a zombie!"

At that moment, 10K caught a glimpse over Murphy's shoulder of a Z approaching the stranger from behind. He froze his movements, watching the scene unfold.

Murphy did not even look at the Z as it approached the stranger, who had not noticed its proximity in his excitement.

Murphy glared for only a moment more. "Done," he snarled, and pounded a fist into the floor beside 10K's face. At Murphy's movement, the Z launched itself onto the other man. The stranger let out a furious shout as more Z's rushed in, knocking him to the floor. The growls and snarls echoed through the room as Murphy raised himself off of 10K, his eyes still on their captor. With one hand he reached down toward the boy, and after a second, 10K took his arm and felt himself hefted back to his feet as though he weighed nothing at all.

But suddenly there was a ferocious yell from the midst of the pile of Z's, and the stranger spun out of their ranks, wielding a heavy looking, steel-ended weapon. He put it through the skull of a Z, and then a second one, using a foot to shove a third backward to the floor where he piked it, leaving it dead. Two more Z's closed in behind him, but the stranger doubled back and piked one of them, yanking the weapon out of its skull and bringing it around in a fast arc to crush the skull of the fifth.

Murphy had begun to move forward, probably to help the Z's, and 10K started after him on instinct, but they had waited a split-second too long.

The stranger turned on them, weapon in one hand and remote in the other, holding the latter out toward his captives as a raging, sinister smile twisted his face. "That was very, very stupid." He told them, kicking aside one of the dead Z's.

He pushed the button on the remote, and both Murphy and 10K staggered backward under the force of waves and waves of electricity. 10K gasped, trying to lift his hands and pull the collar loose from around his neck, but his muscles began to seize. The electricity did not relent, and 10K found himself flat on his back again, unable to draw a breath or move, except to thrash from side to side as the foreign energy crackled through the fibers of his body. He was vaguely aware that Murphy was on the floor now, too.

"Very stupid," came the sinisterly quiet voice of their captor.

The electricity ceased.

10K drew in breath after gasping breath, gripping the collar with white-knuckled hands. His vision swam in front of his eyes but even so, he tried to raise himself up to see the stranger as the man approached them.

The stranger looked winded, but pleased, and the expression on his face sent a steep shiver down 10K's spine. He risked a glance sideways at Murphy. The man was lying on his back, eyes closed, breathing, but not moving at all.

"Murphy…" he tried to say, but his voice cracked. He let go of his collar to reach over and give the man's shoulder as sharp a shake as he could. "Hey… Murphy?"

"I think he'll need a minute," the stranger said cruelly, moving to 10K's feet and standing above him, eyes glinting. "I probably shouldn't have shocked him that badly after tapping so much blood, but what can I say? That was so dumb. I would've gone easy on you, all I wanted was to see him bite you. Now… neither of you will ever get out of this."

"We—we have friends, they'll find us," 10K ground out, still struggling to sit up but finding it very difficult. All his muscles felt like they were on fire.

"No," said the stranger, shaking his head with another cold smile. "No, they won't. No one knows you're here. You really stepped in it this time, kid."


	2. Unthinkable

**Warning: this chapter contains talk of predatory homosexuality. No sex, no hardcore, no like: no read.**

 **Chapter Two**

 **"Unthinkable"**

The stranger wielded his electronic remote in front of him, forcing 10K and Murphy to walk forward out of the red-lit room. He gestured sharply with it when 10K looked back, indicating that he keep moving and take a right down the hall. Murphy stumbled a little as they rounded the corner, his face even more ashen than usual from his loss of blood, and 10K put an arm under Murphy's elbow on instinct, holding him up. Murphy cast a dark sidelong glance in 10K's direction, and the boy thought he could read a look of deep apprehension in that normally stoic face. He cast another quick look over his shoulder at the stranger, continuing to move forward slowly, helping Murphy to stay on his feet.

"Where are we going?" 10K asked tensely, keeping his eyes forward.

"Shut up and keep walking," their captor snapped.

"Just let us go, we'll go and we won't look back," 10K pushed, his eyes flickering back over his shoulder. Murphy was starting to lean more heavily on his arm.

"I said, shut up!" Barked the stranger, and with a sharp gesture he gave the remote a sharp buzz.

10K staggered sideways into Murphy, his body seizing under the assault of more electricity, and tripped over the man's legs as the shock ceased and his muscles went weak. The two of them barely managed to remain standing, but somehow Murphy caught his balance and braced against 10K, leaning him back upright.

"You keep doing that, you'll lose your last showpieces," Murphy growled, turning a furious eye to the stranger, who looked back at him smugly.

"You're not showpieces anymore," said the stranger in an odd voice. "You could've been, but you decided to make it a lot harder on yourselves. Only good zombies get to be showpieces—and good boys, too," he added, raising an eyebrow at 10K. "But you made me kill all the best zombies I had. I have different plans for you now. Go through that door."

10K and Murphy looked at the door where the stranger was pointing, and they stopped walking.

"What's in there?" Asked 10K, doing his best not to sound nervous.

"Go. Through. The door." The stranger ordered, his voice grating as he punctuated each syllable, holding up the remote as a threat.

Murphy was the one to step forward and turn the door handle, giving 10K a subtle look that said, ' _Don't make a move right now.'_

The door swung open and through it, 10K could see a small amount of daylight filtering in through a barred window high in the ceiling. The room was unfurnished except for an unmade bed in one corner, two wicker chairs against the opposite wall, and a thick pillar stretching all the way from the ceiling to the floor. Directly in front of the pillar, heavy manacles hung from the ceiling, attached to metal chains that looked rusted and used.

"What the hell is this place?" Murphy growled under his breath, his eyes moving from the barred window to the metal chains.

"Oh, this is where I keep the zombies until they're fitted with their collars and ready to go on display," the stranger explained conversationally, pushing them further into the room. "That's what the smell is."

10K stayed quiet as the stranger closed the door behind them, locking them in. He and Murphy watched the man in silence as he made his way around the edge of the room, eyeing his captives the entire time.

"So…" the stranger said in a low voice, walking back the other way, pacing as he studied the two of them. "Now we have our fun."

10K glanced at Murphy, a shiver running down his spine. He wanted to somehow convey to Murphy his question—' _How the hell do we get out of this?'_

"It won't be much fun for you," the stranger continued, pulling a long rope out from under the large flap he wore at his side, kind of like makeshift armor. "But it'll be fun for me. Here, boy, take this rope. Tie your friend's hands behind his back."

10K stared at the stranger with wide eyes, not moving. He shook his head a little from left to right, rooted to the spot.

"NOW!" The stranger barked out, and he held out the buzzer, pressing ruthlessly down on the button.

The electricity hit both 10K and Murphy like bolts of lightning, sending them the cold floor, rendering them completely incapable of functional movement. 10K gripped his fists together across his chest, his body convulsing as waves and ripples of the electric current continued to assault him. After what seemed like minutes, the shocks stopped, and he drew in several sharp, painful breaths, trying to roll onto his side. His muscles shook uncontrollably and his arms felt like jelly as he raised himself up onto his elbow, turning toward Murphy.

But the stranger was already beside Murphy, pulling the weakened man up into a sitting position by the shoulder, and twisting both his arms around behind his back.

"I have to do everything myself," the stranger griped, fastening the rope tightly around Murphy's wrists and knotting it securely. Murphy appeared to be too weak to resist, but his teeth were bared and his eyes spit fire as the stranger straightened up and took a few steps back, admiring his work.

"You'll regret this… when our group finds you," Murphy snarled, out of breath from the electricity.

"No one's going to find you," repeated the stranger, his mouth twisting in a sneering smile. "Why would they think to come here? They'll look and look, and then they'll give up on both of you—"

"They _will_ find us—they would've heard the gunshot," 10K interrupted, breathing heavily as he pushed himself backward to lean against the wall. "They'll come this way, they'll search every building until they get to this one!"

The stranger looked disconcerted for a second, but it quickly passed. "Well then, boy…" he sneered, taking a few steps closer to 10K. "I better hurry and have my fun."

10K watched him warily as the stranger took another step closer. The man's eyes were raking up and down 10K's body, and his fingers were opening and closing as he got nearer.

The way the stranger looked at him sent another shudder down 10K's back, and he pushed himself straighter against the wall. "Just let us go," he said, gritting his teeth against the anxiety rising in his chest. "We have to get Murphy to California, we have to. He could—he could save humanity, if they can use his blood to make more of the vaccine!"

"What blood?" the stranger laughed darkly. "I took six pints of it. I'm amazed he's even alive. No one's going to California. Well—neither of you are, at least. The rest of them can do whatever the hell they want… just like I'm going to." The stranger looked down at the remote in his hand and pressed a button. 10K tensed his body, expecting another onslaught, but it didn't come. He stared at the stranger in confusion until the man looked back at him, holding up the device. "Now when I press this button," he told them casually, "The Murphy will get it. Let that be a warning to you, zombie man. If you make a move, I'll have you on the floor in less than half a second. I've tripled the voltage—it might even kill you, I don't know. Who knows what it takes to kill a half-man, half-zombie?" He thought about that for a second. "Well… I'll know, in time. I'll be the first to find out." His cold eyes moved back to 10K. "Stand up, boy."

10K didn't move. He glanced over at Murphy, then back at the stranger. "Why?"

"Stay where you are, kid," Murphy muttered from beside him.

"If you don't do what I say, your friend the Murphy gets it," the stranger reminded 10K, holding up the remote with a glint in his eye. It looked almost as though he was hoping 10K would still refuse.

Slowly, tremulously, 10K climbed to his feet, his back against the wall. He met the stranger's eyes reluctantly, a pit forming in his stomach.

"Now…" the stranger began, looking pleased. "Walk over to the pillar."

Out of the corner of his eye, 10K could see Murphy shaking his head sharply, but he couldn't let Murphy die by electrocution. He was partly responsible for getting Murphy to California, and if he failed now because he was afraid, the others would never forgive him.

Slowly, he moved across the floor, keeping his eyes on the stranger, not turning his back on him for one second. He approached the pillar and risked a glance up at the manacles. From such a close vantage point, he could see they were covered in dried blood, not rust. He tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone bone dry as he lowered his eyes back to the stranger.

Suddenly, with surprising agility, the stranger had come forward and closed the gap between them in three large strides. 10K let out a yell of surprise, making to jump back out of the way, but his back hit the thick pillar, and then the stranger was on him.

"Hey—get off!" 10K shouted breathlessly, trying to bring a knee up into the stranger's stomach and force him back. But the stranger was bigger and stronger, and he grabbed 10K's arms in a vice-like grip, lifting them up above his head. 10K fought hard to get loose, but his muscles were still shaky from the electricity, and he realized he was too weak to get out of the stranger's hold. With ice in his veins, he felt the cold metal of the manacles close forcefully around first one wrist, then the other, and the stranger winched them both so tight that 10K lost feeling in his fingers almost immediately.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Murphy struggling to get up, a look of rage on his ashen face. The stranger seemed to notice this too, and he backed away from 10K, pointing the remote at Murphy and pressing the button a lot harder than necessary. As Murphy collapsed and went rigid, that sick smile curled the stranger's lips again.

"No!" Yelled 10K in desperation. "Stop!"

Finally, the stranger stopped pressing the button. Murphy's body stopped seizing and 10K stared at him fearfully, praying that it hadn't been too much. To his enormous relief, he saw Murphy's eyes open a fraction, and his chest started to rise and fall again with deep, sharp breaths.

"Don't move again, zombie-man," the stranger warned. "I told you I tripled the voltage—I wasn't lying. Got that, boy?" He turned a gleaming eye on 10K. "If you don't cooperate, it's your friend who's gonna pay the price."

"Cooperate—?" said 10K jumpily, struggling to breathe through the tightness in his chest, "Cooperate how? What do you want?"

"What I want," said the stranger in a low voice, advancing toward 10K again, the corner of his mouth curling upward, "Is you."

10K stared at him without moving, bewildered. He pressed his back into the pillar as the stranger eyed him, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible. "I don't—I don't get it, why do you want me…?" He stammered, trying and failing to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Why do you think?" The stranger demanded.

10K shook his head, his eyes wide. "I don't know," he said truthfully, his voice cracking. "I'm no one, I'm normal…" he trailed off into silence, struck by the look on the stranger's face. It was a look he'd never seen before, but something inside him was telling him to reject it however he could.

The stranger looked amused and surprised. "You don't know much, do you?"

Despite his predicament, 10K felt a flare of indignation at this remark. "I know some things," he argued, but his voice trembled a little.

"No, you don't. You don't know anything about what's like to be alone, for years and years, with no one to… satisfy… what a man needs in life.."

"I was alone for three years," 10K told him, pressing harder into the pillar as the stranger took a step closer. "I'm used to it."

"Well… it doesn't surprise me, you're just a kid. You don't even know what it's like to _have_ needs, do you?"

10K bit back an answer, his mind racing as he tried to understand what the stranger meant.

The man laughed, "You know what? I bet you're still a virgin."

10K froze his movements, staring at the stranger. "What...?"

"You heard me. Bet you never did the dirty, did you? Never waked the snakes?"

10K didn't know what to say as a sense of horror flooded through him. That look in the man's eye… the way he kept eyeing up and down like 10K was a piece of meat…

"You're scum," growled Murphy's voice from the wall, and 10K looked over to find that the man was fully awake again, glaring at them both across the room as he struggled with what looked like all the rest of his strength to get back to his feet, without the use of his bound arms. "You're worse than a Z, you shitbag. Step the hell back—"

The stranger laughed darkly, raising the remote. "See? This is why I come prepared." He pressed the button again, and down Murphy went, twitching and shaking, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"Stop! Stop it!" Shouted 10K, pulling as hard as he could on the chains that held his arms above his head. The chains rattled loudly but they didn't give, and when the stranger let go of the button, Murphy was once again rendered half-unconscious on the floor.

10K breathed heavily, staring fearfully over at Murphy. "Murphy!" He croaked around a lump in his throat. "Wake up! Hey... Murphy!"

"Don't worry about the Murphy," hissed the stranger, and suddenly he was there in front of 10K, three inches from his face. He pinned 10K to the pillar with one hand around his throat.

10K coughed and choked, his eyes watering as the man increased the pressure. Just as his brain started screaming for oxygen and the edges of his vision were tingling with popping red lights, the man released the strangle-hold. 10K gulped in great lungfuls of air, sputtering and trying to shake the lights out of his eyes as he coughed out breath after breath. "Please—" he gasped, fighting to regain control of his breathing. "Why are you doing this?"

"Like I told you, boy. I've been alone for a long time, and the two of you screwed up my whole game. But I still have a use for you… I still have needs. You're going to help me, boy. And if you don't... your friend pays the price."

Murphy let out a muffled groan from the floor, but he seemed unable to form words.

The stranger moved up to 10K, so near that their chests were almost touching. 10K held his breath, staring back at him.

"You're a good looking kid, you know that?" The stranger said after a minute, and 10K was surprised to hear a sudden change in his voice. He didn't sound angry anymore, and there was something... _else..._ in his eyes now. 10K said nothing, remaining as still as possible. "Yeah, you are," the man continued. "When I first saw you, I knew I hit the jackpot, but I didn't know it would be this... rewarding."

There was another string of angry, weakened groans from Murphy's corner, but this time 10K didn't take his eyes off the stranger. His heart was slowly but surely plummeting down into his stomach as he watched their captor's facial expression. His own face felt frozen, as though he'd been plunged into a block of ice. He couldn't remember how to move his bound arms or legs, or how to take a breath.

"Don't look so sad," crowed the stranger, letting out a delighted laugh. "I'll try to make it a little fun for you, too." At these words, he put his hands on 10K's shoulders, brushing them down across his chest and then to his sides beneath his arms. The touch was light, but it jolted 10K out of his frozen apprehension.

"Don't," he growled at the stranger, trying to twist his body away, but the manacles effectively held him in place. He felt the man's hands tighten around his sides, moving lower until they grasped both his hips, giving a tight squeeze, pulling 10K ever so slightly away from the pillar. As he did so, the stranger leaned his face in toward the side of 10K's face, inhaling deeply. 10K turned his head away, grinding his teeth together as he felt the man's lips touch the side of his neck. "Don't..." he said again, his voice reduced to a shaky whisper, but the sickening pit in his stomach told him his words were futile.

 **Please review!**


	3. Too Much

**J** unesong55thunder: thank you for your words of encouragement! I'm glad you're liking my HP fic as well, but this one definitely won't match it in length. No need! I know exactly where this is going, and it won't take too long to get there, either! :)

 **L** ycanbride: so glad you're loving it. The lack of pairings between 10K and Murph is the sole reason I'm writing this fic. We need more! I volunteer you to write one, too lol

 **D** ecepticonsniper: thanks for your review! Your appreciation keeps the inspiration flowing.

 **A/N:** the upside of having only a few reviewers is that it gives me an opportunity to thank each of your for your feedback. So thanks! And enjoy.

 **WARNING: this chapter contains elevated levels of predatory slash. No sex, no hardcore. READER DISCRETION ADVISED. No like: no read. Also, some very light cursing abounds.**

 **Chapter Three**

 **"Too Much"**

"Don't what?" The stranger hissed through his teeth, his breath warming 10K's neck. "Don't stop?"

10K leaned his face away as far as he could, but the chains around his wrists kept him rigidly upright, and there was no escape. He was stretched so tightly that his heels weren't even touching the floor, and he had a very difficult time keeping any kind of traction.

"Look at me, boy." Hot breath washed over 10K's skin again.

10K felt the man's hand leave his hip to clasp roughly under his jaw, yanking his face forward by the chin so that their cheeks were almost touching once more. His breath quickened, fighting the stranger's steely hold, but unable to turn his head away from his tormentor.

"I said, LOOK AT ME!" The stranger drew back his arm and backhanded 10K across the cheekbone, hard. A muffled half-shout left 10K's mouth as he felt himself bite down hard on his own tongue. Almost instantly, his mouth began to fill with warm, wet blood. 10K spat and coughed, spraying the blood down his chin and chest.

"Oh—god," snapped the stranger, standing back to avoid the spray. At the same time, he drew something long and thin from under his makeshift 'armor,' and held it out toward 10K. "You listen to me, boy," he ordered, and from the way he held out that metal rod in his hand, 10K knew it was some kind of weapon. "When I say it, you do it—got it?"

10K spat more blood down his front. He could feel it running warmly down his neck and over his collarbone, and he vaguely wondered if it might never stop… would this be how he went? One well-placed hit, and then zombification? In his state of shock, some part of him almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of that idea, but the stronger part of him took his mental reins and tried to set him in balance. He wasn't going to die, not here, not today. And neither was Murphy.

He met the man's eyes with a mixture of fear and defiance, trying to ignore the way his heart thundered in his chest. He waited for more blood to pool in his mouth, and then he spat it all as hard as he could at the stranger.

The man threw up his hands as he was showered in blood, glared at 10K for half an instant, and then went berserk. With a furious snarl, he lunged at the boy, the metal rod held out. He thrust the rod sharply into 10's stomach.

10K gave a strangled yell, his head jerking back against the hard pillar hard enough to make spots appear in front of his eyes. His feet left the floor as his legs lifted up under the sudden surge. The electricity that ran through him now was somehow much worse than before. It filled up 10K's entire body, shooting through his limbs and across his skin, accumulating at his wrists and shooting back down through him with the force of a bolt of lightning. After only a few short seconds, everything around him dropped out to blackness. He sagged toward the floor, his eyes rolling.

As came back to consciousness, the first thing he felt was the stranger's hand under his jaw, against his throat. He panicked inwardly for a split second, but the hand didn't apply pressure to cut off his airway. It just lifted his chin up, and 10K was looking into the man's face again. The tightness of the steely grip ensured that 10K couldn't move his head in either direction.

10K realized there was excess blood in his mouth from his moment of unconsciousness and he opened his mouth, sputtering and coughing up what had dripped down the back of his throat. He noticed that the stranger's face and chest were spattered with drops of his blood, and he experienced a short-lived sense of satisfaction.

The man tightened his grip under 10K's jaw and drew closer, his face only inches away from 10K's. He didn't seem to care that the blood was all over him now. "You got spirit, boy," he said in a low voice. "I like that. I like it a lot."

10K didn't answer, he just stared lividly at the man's face, so close to his own. After a prolonged moment, a dark, twisted grin curled the stranger's lip, and he leered down at his captive. "You know a funny thing about electricity?" He asked lightly, moving back a little, but only a little. "It has all kinds of effects on the human body. Neurons firing, muscle spasms, heart beat increases… and another thing—this is the best part, bet you never heard it before—sometimes it can, you know… wake the snake." He looked extremely amused. "Yeah, you ever hear that?" His eyes traveled slowly down 10K's front. His grin faded as he looked back up, and his breathing was faster. There was sweat standing out on his forehead and neck.

10K was still and quiet. A sense of dread was filling him like he'd never felt before. There was no question anymore what this man was after, and he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't move, he couldn't fight back. His heart hammered madly against his rib cage and his breathing matched the leering man's own.

The man moved close again, and this time, pressed his chest right up against 10K. The boy pushed backward against the pillar, his chin still in the stranger's grip. He fought for better traction with his feet as the stranger pressed harder against him. "Yeah… this is what I've been missing. I've waited a long time for this, I've been here all alone… no one but zombies, and they're no company at all.." he gave a short laugh.

10K shut his eyes tightly as he felt the man's free hand come up against his chest, touching lightly against his skin through his shirt. The hand ran along 10K's collar bone, over his shoulder, and then brushed across his chest again. 10K let out a gasp when he felt the man pinch his nipple, and he pulled harder on the metal chains, his desperation growing exponentially. The man tweaked him again, a lot harder this time, and 10K couldn't hold back a quiet whimper. The strange sensation shot down through his stomach, making him feel weak and tingly.

The man laughed, removing his hand from 10K's chest. He trailed his fingers downward across the boy's navel, skimming over his belly button and making 10K's muscles jump. This made the man laugh; he seemed to enjoy it immensely. Without looking down, 10K felt the fingers come to a stop at the front hem of his pants. He shook his head weakly, trying to hold back the hot sensation behind his eyes. He would not cry, he wouldn't let a single tear fall. He couldn't give the man that satisfaction.

"Son of a bastard…" Murphy's rasping voice issued from the floor. "I'll tear you apart, you sick bag of shit…"

The man looked over at Murphy, rolling his eyes in exasperation. He let go of 10K's jaw and reached for the remote, holding it out toward Murphy. "Don't you ever shut up?" He hissed, pressing down on the button.

10K didn't look but he heard splutters as Murphy was hit again by the electricity.

"Please…" he begged, despite his anger, "You can't kill Murphy. We need him, the world needs—"

"You too, kid!" The stranger growled, shoving the remote back into his belt and covering 10K's mouth with his hand. "Shut your mouth, or I'll prod you again. That thing would kill you faster than that collar could kill your friend over there. Those manacles? They're metal. Every shock I give you is magnified a dozen times by those things. So shut it, fella. We're just getting started."

His hand left 10K's mouth, allowing him to breathe again, and reached down to his lower stomach once more. 10K ground his teeth together as he felt two fingers slipping across the front hem of his pants, sliding under the waistband and moving across the skin underneath it.

"No!" Yelled 10K, filled by a sudden surge of energy. He swung himself loose on the chains above him, kicking out with his legs, trying to land a blow on the man's shins, his kneecaps, anywhere—he just needed to get him off. But his shaking legs slid past the man's knees on either side, and before he could make another move, the man had angled his body back in to push against 10K again. He shoved his knee between 10K's thighs, forcing them slightly apart.

10K gasped, still trying to fight, shaking his head back and forth, and trying to pull his legs back up in front of him. But the man was leaning into him too forcefully and all he could do was swing there by his arms, trapped between the stranger's bulk and the cold, hard pillar.

The man whipped out the metal rod, which he quickly swung forward into 10K's stomach. It was a short jab and then it was over, but it left 10K shaking again; his legs went limp and his head rolled forward, but this time he didn't black out.

The stranger kept his knee between 10K's thighs, using his own body weight to restrain the boy's movements. 10K could smell thick, pungent sweat on the man's body, and all he wanted to do was to shut his eyes and sink through the floor. He heaved for breath, not able to do anything more than that as he recovered from the brief electrocution.

His heart almost stopped beating when he felt the man's hand at the hem of his pants again. The stranger's face was pressed against the side of 10K's cheek as his fingers slipped under the hem, slowly, like he was teasing.

He hissed sinisterly into 10K's ear. "Let's see if that old wive's tale about electricity is true."

10K felt the fingers push down past the hem of his pants, and he shook his head. "No…" he said again, but his voice cracked and it sounded more like a rasp than a word. "Don't!"

"Enjoy it while you can," the stranger ordered. All of a sudden, he pushed his hand deeper, cupping his palm around 10K between his legs and applying pressure with his fingers.

10K snapped his head back against the pillar at the sudden movement. He tried to protest but only a fearful groan escaped his lips, and he could barely hear anything except for the loud ringing in his ears.

The man pressed harder with his hand, and his fingers moved around between 10K's legs, causing the boy to jolt against the chains again, his eyes shut tight. "Stop!" He managed to gasp, roughly shaking his head from side to side. "Please…"

"Not too bad, for a kid your size," the stranger murmured smugly, ignoring 10K's pleas as his fingers continued to explore.

10K felt extremely hot in the face, and his cheeks were flushed red as he gave another hard struggle against the chains. The man's hand was cold, but another sort of unfamiliar warmth was growing in his navel at the man's unwelcome ministrations. The strange sensation started rising into his stomach, and down his legs, into his toes.

10K's stomach muscles contracted sharply and he gasped, opening his eyes. "I—I think I'm gonna be sick—"

"Shut up," said the man in a raspy voice, rubbing 10K harder.

10K felt like he was losing consciousness again. The unbidden feeling was shooting from his navel to the rest of his body, a lot like the electricity from the rod. It was too much; his body seemed to lose authority over itself. Every muscle shook and trembled visibly, and his head fell forward onto the man's chest. All he could do right then was hang rigidly from the ceiling, fighting to regain control of his body.

He felt fingers gripping in his hair, pulling his head back up, pushing him upright against the pillar. He tried to swallow past the feeling rising in his throat, but he couldn't stop it. He retched hard, and retched again, but he hadn't eaten since yesterday. There was nothing left in his stomach to return. He gasped and gave a sharp groan when he felt the man pull sharply on him between his legs, rubbing him up and down in a more feverish way.

"That's it," the man breathed, leaning into 10K, but looking down between their bodies at what he was doing. He forgot all about holding up 10K's head, which dropped limply down again onto the man's shoulder, but the stranger didn't seem to notice. The feeling in 10K's stomach was still growing, spreading, heating up against his will.

"Seems you're in good working order," the stranger said in a low, unrecognizable voice. His own face was quite flushed, too. "You'll do fine. But you definitely need to learn how to have a little fun. Once you've crested that wave, you'll want it more than any waking thing under the sun." At that, he withdrew his hand abruptly from between 10K's legs, causing the boy to let out another weak gasp. 10K didn't look at him, only drew in sharp breaths of air, trying with all his will to banish the heat in his stomach.

When the man released the manacles from around his wrists, 10K wasn't ready, and his legs collapsed out from under him, sending him sprawling across the floor. He scrambled to turn over and get back to his feet, but that same instant, he felt a weight bearing down on him from behind. The man was on top of him, forcing him face-first against the floor, yanking both his arms out to the sides and bending them backward, holding them tightly across each other so that 10K was once more unable to move. 10K struggled for all he was worth, kicking his legs out, bucking his shoulders and hips, but the man had planted himself, and no amount of fighting could budge him.

"Shhhhh, calm yourself," the stranger advised, and 10K could hear that sick smile in his voice. "This'll be a lot easier on you if you relax."

"Get—off—me!" 10K growled breathlessly, his face pressed into the cold floor, his breathing restricted by the stranger's heaviness.

He felt the man lower himself down on his back, so that his full weight pressed down on 10K. "I said… RELAX!"

10K felt a short, sharp jab as the electric rod pushed briefly into his side and he went still again, his whole body tingling and shaking. He waited for further assault, feeling numb and foggy, but after a minute of nothing, he tried to turn his head sideways to see what his tormentor was doing.

The man had straightened up, and was staring at the closed door, the excitement on his face replaced by a look of angry caution. 10K gave a sharp experimental struggle and it was met by a forceful hand to the back of his neck, shoving his face back into the floor. "Stop moving…" the man ordered, his eyes fixed on the door.

10K felt the man's weight lift off his back, and his arms were released. Blood rushed back to his fingertips, and he scrambled to turn over, trying to pull himself across the floor on arms that hadn't felt any blood flow for a good while. His eyes locked on the stranger, but he found himself facing the barrel of a gun. The man glared at him darkly from behind the pistol, curling his upper lip. "You move while I'm gone… you make any attempt to escape or you pull anything foolish…you'll wish you were dead. Both of you." He turned carefully toward the door.

"What-what're you doing?"

"Shut up! And don't move." The stranger cocked the pistol and opened the door, looking both ways before slipping out into the hall. When he quietly closed the door behind him, 10K heard the click of a lock falling into place. He stared at the white plastered door for what seemed like an eternity, his heart pounding in his throat as his chest rose and fell rapidly in the sudden, unexpected silence.

"Kid..."

10K jumped, throwing an arm out toward the voice and trying to move away from it, pulling himself haphazardly to his feet using the pillar. His eyes fell on Murphy, who was lying on the floor against the wall, his eyes half open as he stared at 10K, his jaw clenched.

10K was frozen in place for only a moment more as he tried to regain his senses. "Murphy!" He muttered under his breath, moving forward toward the man and falling to his knees beside him. He held out trembling hands, not knowing where to put them. Not sure of anything anymore. "Murphy! Are you okay?"

"Kid…get me…up."

10K pushed down an instinctual reluctance to touch Murphy at all, his mind racing a thousand miles a minute. He forced himself to reach under Murphy's arm and help him to sit up, trying to ignore the foreign thoughts invading his mind at their physical contact. He gave his head a sharp shake, forcing back hot tears as he let go of Murphy quickly, sitting back on his heels. He didn't realize he was staring at Murphy's face until the man gestured weakly at him, using his chin to indicate the ropes binding his arms.

Swallowing another wave of nervous discomfort, 10K bent forward again and got to work on the rope. The knot was a piece of work, but he finally felt it come loose in his hand, and he pulled the rope out from behind Murphy, casting it aside to the corner of the room.

"Murphy…" he began, his voice shaking. "We—we have to get out of here. We c—can't be here when he gets back, I don't know where he went—"

"He heard something downstairs. I heard it, too…" Murphy took a weak, rattling breath, then met 10K's gaze. "Don't worry, kid," he ground out, the darkness flaring sharply and angrily in his eyes. "If he comes back and we're still here… no amount of electricity… will stop me from tearing his head off… with my bare hands."

As 10K crouched there, Murphy's words flooded him with an unexpected surge of hope. His heartbeat slowed imperceptibly, and his breathing evened out a little.

"We're getting out of here, 10K," growled Murphy. 10K looked at him, registering a small amount of shock. It was the only time he had ever heard Murphy call him by that name. "We'll get out, we'll be okay. You'll be fine. You better believe me right now, kid. Right fuckin now."

10K didn't say anything as he slowly sat back on his heels again. With a great effort, he tried to push all the unwelcome feelings, all the fear, all the confusion, and the sickening humiliation into the depths of his mind, trying to let Murphy's words replace them in his thoughts. He had never liked Murphy very much, he had never trusted him—not even a little. But at this moment, he felt nothing for Murphy but trust and gratitude. He held onto the man's words like a lifeline, and gave a tremulous nod, not looking away.

After a long second, 10K glanced down, reaching a hand into one of his pants pockets. He drew out a small pin, and looked back at Murphy. "I… I can get us out of this room," he said quietly, his eyes flickering over to the handle of the locked door.

 **Reviews are the kiss of life for a writer! Even mean, scaly reviews, as long as they contain a helpful idea or opinion.**


	4. Run

**G** uest: Don't cry lol! Don't worry. Well...actually... worry.

 **T** hatkidwiththeunkempthair: So glad it meets with your approval! Thanks for reviewing.

 **O** y: Thank you so much for your feedback, I'm glad my portrayal of the different characters is on base.

 **C** ommander Maxwell: Your review made me so happy. It means so much to hear that the writing is so hugely appreciated! I hope you stick with me.

 **Warning: this chapter contains some light violence, light cursing, and hints of predatory slash resulting from previous chapters.**

Enjoy! And I can't hold back this small spoiler... not everything is as it seems at the end of this chapter, so don't panic.

 **Chapter Four**

 **"Run"**

The collector glared at the people standing outside his door as he trotted down the steps, his makeshift armor swinging at his sides. They watched him approach the glass, all of them looking slightly surprised to see anyone at all.

"What?" He asked them, red in the face. "What do you want?"

One of their number, a dark-skinned woman, stepped to the front of the group and held up a backpack and a rifle. "We're looking for our friend," she told him. "And we found this outside your place."

The collector stared at the items, keeping his face unresponsive, but he couldn't hide the bruise on his temple or the sweat on his face. "So?" He demanded roughly, his patience running out.

The woman exchanged a look of displeasure with another member of the group, an older, white-haired man, before looking back at the collector through the door. "So," she said dryly, "This stuff belongs to another one of our friends. You see anybody come by here?"

"No," said the collector. "No one's been in this town for over a year. No one but zombies. Now if you don't mind, I'm busy here."

Roberta Warren frowned, glancing at the others again. "Why would our friend's gun by leaning against your house?"

The collector threw up his hands, losing his patience. "How should I know? He probably got snatched by a zombie, that's what happens these days to kids who wander around on the streets by themselves!"

Warren gazed suspiciously at him for a moment, and then turned to face the rest of the group. "Sorry to bother you, sir. If you see either of them, tell them their group is looking for them."

The collector nodded sarcastically as the group moved off his front steps.

Warren stopped walking when they were out of eyesight and around the corner, turning to Doc, Addy, and Vasquez with a skeptical look on her face.

Addy was rounding on her, glaring at Warren in confusion. "Where are we going?" She asked tensely. "That guy was lying."

"I know," said Warren, pulling her pistol out of her belt. "I never said anything to him about any 'kid.' Let's do this. Be careful—we don't know _why_ he's lying. Don't shoot him if he catches us. But don't let him pull any tricks, either."

 **INSIDE, FOURTH FLOOR...**

Murphy eyed the pin in 10K's hand with a look of sudden inspiration. "Hey—if you can pick a lock, think you can do this collar?"

10K carefully reached out to the collar around Murphy's neck, maneuvering it in a half-circle to figure out what kept it in place. Deep-set in the strong, black material was a thin bolt, attached to two metal squares.

"Maybe…" said 10K under his breath, and he set to work, shoving the small pin into the opening of one of the metal squares. He moved it around a bit, trying to feel the tumblers inside, and after a few small adjustments, he felt the pin catch against them. He held it still for a second, then lifted it slowly, pushing it a little further into the metal as he did so. There was a metallic click, and the bolt slid back, letting the collar fall into Murphy's lap.

"Thanks," said Murphy appreciatively, and he tossed the collar aside, making to climb precariously to his feet.

10K was already standing. He crossed the room toward the door, face set, and knelt in front of the handle. Gently, he reached up and inserted the pin into the lock, a frown of concentration creasing his brow.

Murphy made a growling sound in his throat, following 10K across the room. "Get your collar before you get the door, kid," he told him. "Here, give me the pick, I'll do it."

"I'll get it…" muttered 10K without looking at Murphy, chewing on his bottom lip as he worked on the door. His eyes were narrowed, and he tuned out almost every other thought as he wiggled the pin slightly up and down inside the wide, old-fashioned keyhole.

"Hurry up and get it then!" Murphy ground out, bracing himself against the wall next to 10K. "If that thing comes off, the shitsack can't get us from a distance. He'll have to get close, and if he does that…" Murphy trailed off ominously, his eyes sparking angrily.

But 10K didn't seem to be listening. "I almost got it…" he breathed, giving the pin another small push. There was a solid click as the door unlocked. Exhaling sharply, 10K stood, pulling open the door and leaning out to look in both directions. "Come on—"

Murphy grabbed 10K by the shoulder, attempting to turn him back around.

"Hey!" Shouted 10K in surprise, whirling around and thrusting his arms against Murphy, pushing him away. His breathing had quickened again as he took a step back, and he stared at Murphy with widened eyes.

Murphy caught his balance easily, despite his weakened state, and held out his hands nonthreateningly. His brows were drawn together, and there was a hint of reluctant worry in his eyes. "I just need you to get that collar off before you go rampaging off into the hallway and get yourself blasted. That's all.."

10K blinked, looking at Murphy for another second. Then he glanced down at the pin in his hand. "I said I'll do it," he said, sounding winded, and looking back up.

"Well then?" Demanded Murphy.

10K reached up to his neck, twisting the collar around to the front where he could access the lock. He went silent again as he got started, trying to be able to see the mechanism, moving the pin this way and that as he tried to slow his breathing.

Murphy watched him work, the frown lines spreading across his forehead. After about a minute of nothing but the tiny, scraping sounds of metal against metal, Murphy cleared his throat. "Listen, kid… I know we're not friends. But you can trust me, you know that, right?"

10K was concentrating on the collar, but at Murphy's words he gave a small nod, not looking up from the bolt. "Yeah."

"That… scumbag… what he did… well, he's the devil," Murphy went on, as though he was reluctant to speak at all, but couldn't stop himself. "Some people are big piles of shit, and it's not your fault."

10K nodded, still craning his neck to be able to see what he was doing.

"Got it?" Murphy pressed, sounding agitated. "You hear me?"

10K nodded slowly again, still seeming as though he wasn't really listening, though in truth he was hanging onto every word Murphy spoke. He held his breath when he heard the tumblers click. Now it would just take some quick, careful maneuvering…

"Are you even listening to me, kid?" Demanded Murphy. "You better be, or I swear to…" he cut himself off, and 10K looked up in surprise when he stopped talking.

Murphy was standing stock still, staring past 10K out the door. That's when 10K heard it, too: distant, echoing footsteps, like someone running up the stairs, and the sound was getting closer.

In a split second, Murphy had grabbed 10K by the upper arm and yanked him out through the open door and into the hallway. "Hurry up!" He muttered, and though his speed was stunted by his blood loss, he was able to move quickly. Murphy and 10K sprinted side by side down the hall, away from the footsteps. At the end of the hallway, Murphy jerked his head toward the right, and with a quick glance over his shoulder back down the hallway, 10K followed him at a run.

They had reached the end of the second hallway when they heard a furious yell echo loudly from where they had come. 10K turned toward the sound and tried to keep running, but one of his feet caught his other ankle, almost sending him tripping to the floor. Murphy had him by the arm again and heaved him back up, barely breaking his stride. "Don't look back! Move it, kid! There, the stairs! Come on!"

They barreled down a second set of stairs, past several more barred windows, and came out on some kind of landing lined with doors on both sides. Murphy pushed one open, looked inside, and moved on to the next one. "Looks like we're on the second floor now," he muttered, shoving open another door and peering hastily around inside. "All the damn windows are barred..." He pulled the second door shut, moving on.

Above them, up the stairs and down the hallway, they heard their pursuer give another yell of anger. "You're not getting away! Stop trying to run!" His voice echoed off the marbled walls, and 10K could tell he was getting close to the stop of the stairs.

"In here," hissed Murphy, opening the third door and gesturing sharply for 10K to go inside.

Swallowing a deep sense of foreboding, 10K moved past Murphy into the dimly lit room.

"The guy has the front door electrified, we gotta find another way out," panted Murphy as quietly as possible, closing the door behind them and standing against it as a block. "Hurry up and get that damn collar off you!"

"I came in through a side door, we can leave through there," said 10K in an undertone, reaching into his pocket for the lock pick. He rooted around for a second, then froze, looking stricken.

"What?" Hissed Murphy, stepping closer. "What is it?"

"The pin—I—I must have lost it when we were running…" 10K looked slowly back up at Murphy. "I don't have it."

Murphy glared incredulously. "You have got to be kidding me. A knife, get your knife, I'll cut the thing off."

10K shook his head, paling. "I only brought the handgun, and he…" he swallowed hard. "He took it. All my other stuff's in my bag, and I left it outside."

Murphy stared as though he was entirely unwilling to hear what 10K was saying. "You're not kidding, are you?" He demanded dryly after a long second.

10K didn't say anything, or move a muscle.

"Come here," growled Murphy, reaching out and grasping 10K by the collar, yanking him closer despite 10K's nervous burst of protests. Murphy tugged on the collar, twisting the black material, trying to rip apart the bolt, but the collar was too strong. He dug his fingernails into the metal square, but nothing he did had any effect on the lock. "Damn it," he growled on a long exhale.

10K, who had been holding tightly onto Murphy's arms as the man tugged at the collar, finally felt Murphy release him, and he took a quick step back.

"Fine, it's fine," Murphy was muttering, his eyes skimming over the threadbare room. "Help me find some kind of weapon. I'll pike him before he can even open his mouth…" He hurried over to a closet door and opened it, bending down to search the corners.

10K, still looking pale, took to the other side of the room, scanning under the table, behind some scrappy chairs, and inside a small cupboard. His eyes fell on a two-foot piece of metal pipe on the shelf and he grabbed it, turning around.

"Murphy!" He called in a loud whisper. "I found a—"

He was cut off abruptly as the collar around his neck buzzed loudly and he stiffened, dropping the pipe. His legs collapsed and he fell to the floor, hard, surging with electricity. The metal pipe landed beside him with an earsplitting crash.

"KID!"

10K vaguely registered Murphy's voice through the siege of high voltage tearing through his body, and the edges of his vision started to blacken as he thrashed on the floor.

Murphy's face swam into view above him just before the lights went out, and he lost consciousness.

"Wake up!"

10K felt a hard slap to the side of his face, and his shoulders were being shaken roughly by someone.

"Open your eyes!"

Another hard slap, and this time he opened his eyes, a flood of panic taking him as he realized he was being held down.

"Hey—no—don't! Get off!" He stammered wildly, pushing against the hands on his shoulders, kicking his knees up and trying to scoot out from underneath the person's hold.

"Whoa, it's me! It's Murphy, don't kick me! You have to get up, we gotta make a run for the back door!"

10K stilled, his eyes focusing on Murphy's face. He inhaled sharply, blinking rapidly. "Sorry—I'm—I didn't mean to—"

"Get up, we gotta move! Which way's the way out?"

"East," said 10K unsteadily, letting Murphy help him back to his feet, but before they could make a move toward the door, they heard a low knocking coming from the other side. They both froze where they stood.

"Anybody home?" Came the stranger's sickening voice, followed by a dark laugh. The door handle turned, and the door swung open, revealing the collector standing on the other side. In one hand he held a cocked pistol, and in the other he gripped the small, black remote. When he saw Murphy and 10K, his upper lip curled in a silent leer.

Murphy shunted 10K out of the way, moving in front of him and picking up the metal pipe from the floor. He held it out toward the stranger. "Come one step closer," he challenged him, poison dripping off his tone.

The stranger gave a merciless laugh. "Thanks for dropping that, by the way," he smirked, indicating the metal pipe. "If I hadn't heard it, I could've been searching every room between here and kingdom come." He eyed 10K, and an angry, disappointed look crossed his face for a second. "I knew one of you still had your collar on, and that's what makes this thing so useful." He held up the remote. "Three hundred foot range, through solid stone, up, down, in every direction."

"I'll make your death slow and painful," snarled Murphy, wielding the pipe in front of him. "I won't give you mercy. You don't deserve mercy."

"Is that a fact?" The stranger's lip twisted in a menacing half-grin. He raised the remote, and pressed down hard on it with his thumb.

As 10K hit the floor again behind Murphy, Murphy let out a furious snarl of rage and raised the metal pipe above his head, swinging it down toward the stranger's head as he leaped across the space between them.

The stranger ducked under the pipe, jumping to the side and avoiding being brained by only a few inches. But it caused him to stop pressing the remote, and 10K could breathe again. He forced himself to sit up and clambered to his feet just as Murphy brought the pipe down again in a cutting arc, straight toward the stranger's head.

There was a gunshot, and Murphy staggered back. The pipe clattered to the floor and rolled to the wall.

10K watched the scene as though in slow motion, his mind unable to comprehend what his eyes were seeing.

The stranger had the pistol pointed at Murphy's chest, and Murphy took another staggering step backward, looking down. A small amount of blood was blossoming across his front. He reached a hand up to his chest, covering the wound, and turned to look at 10K with what seemed to be impossible slowness.

Then Murphy fell, landing on his back on the floor with a guttural grunt.

"NO!" Yelled 10K, lunging forward toward Murphy. He threw himself to his knees beside the fallen man. Suddenly, everything seemed to speed back up. Things were happening at high speed now as 10K covered Murphy's chest with both his hands, pressing down. "No! Murphy, don't die!"

He didn't even realize the stranger had come further into the room. He didn't see or hear anything except Murphy, whose eyelids were flickering as his eyes starting rolling back in his head.

"Hey…hey," said 10K desperately, trying to push down harder on the wound. He straightened up briefly and ripped off his vest, then pushed Murphy's hands out of the way, covering the wound with the fabric and resuming the pressure. "Come on, Murphy, you can't die!" He begged, leaning over Murphy with both hands, pressing down with all his weight.

"I bet he can," said the stranger's voice from behind him. "I bet he can die just like anyone else. Good thing I have his blood on ice, right?"

10K looked over his shoulder at the sneering man, and an uncontrollable rage started to fill his chest. All sense of logic dropped out of his mind, replaced only by one thought—he wanted to kill the man.

With an animalistic snarl he jumped to his feet. Suddenly, the metal pipe was in his hand, but he couldn't remember picking it up. With another yell he crossed the room in a few short strides, bringing the pipe down through the air, not caring for the consequences.

The stranger looked somewhat surprised by the unexpected attack, but he was quick enough to dart to one side. The pipe connected with the door frame with a clang that jarred 10K's arm all the way up to his shoulder, and he didn't wait. Still snarling, he swung the pipe back around, leaping toward the man again.

A sharp electrocution stopped his attack like a brick wall. He would have collapsed to the floor, but suddenly the man was holding him up, spinning him around to hold him from behind. He felt the pipe being torn from his hand, and then it was being held to his throat, pulling him backward and cutting off his air. He struggled harder than ever before, tugging on the pipe with both his hands, kicking backward with his heels, but the stranger had the pipe by both ends and doubled the pressure, forcing 10K's head back against the man's shoulder.

10K heaved for breath. He could feel the stranger's chest against his back, just as out of breath as he was himself.

"Whoa, kid. You almost had me!" The man panted from beside 10K's cheek, and 10K twisted his face away from the hot, putrid breath. "Another second faster and you would've clocked me! Glad you still have that collar on."

10K didn't speak; he couldn't have if he'd wanted to, with the pipe pushing against his throat so hard. He tried to see Murphy, to see if he was still alive, but the stranger pulled harder on the pipe, forcing the boy to fight even harder for air.

"Here's a suggestion," the man hissed into 10K's ear. "Stop fighting me, and your friend wouldn't have had to die."

 **Thank you for reviews, all!**


	5. Closing In

**T** hatkidwiththeunkepthair: Stop making me blush! Actually don't stop, I love your awesomeness!

 **A** hhh: That's quite a name you have there! Sorry you had to wait at all, here it is :)

 **B** uckshotredemption: Yay, I'm so glad to have another reviewer! Thanks for your support (however impatient it might be lol)

 **J** ake: You waited the least out of any other reviewer, lucky you ;) Enjoy!

 **Warnings: Elevated levels of implied predatory slash. Some violence. Reader discretion advised!**

 **Chapter Five**

 **"Closing In"**

10K felt another flare of rage in his chest as the metal pipe pressed more painfully against his throat. "You—killed him!" He ground out, trying to throw an elbow backward into the man's chest. "It's hopeless—now—"

"It was always hopeless," the stranger growled, applying more pressure, "The zombie virus was always going to win. I knew it a long time ago, but did anyone listen?" He gave a sharp tug on the pipe, like a reprimand. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I have his blood, remember? We don't need the Murphy."

"Yes—we—did!"

"Well… agree to disagree. If the CDC wants it, they have to come knocking on MY door, instead of the other way around."

"Murphy was right!" Gasped 10K, feeling lightheaded from lack of air. "You're—worse than a Z!"

The man seemed to have heard enough. 10K felt his airway open as the metal pipe fell away, before the man pushed him slightly by the shoulder, and yanked him around so they faced each other. 10K drew in deep breaths of air, trying to steady his legs under him as he levelled a furious gaze on his tormentor.

The man's fingers tightened around 10K's upper arm, and his eyes glittered dangerously. "You're coming with me."

10K glared feverishly at him, twisting his head over his shoulder to see Murphy. Murphy was still lying on his back on the floor, unmoving, eyes shut. "Murphy!" 10K shouted hoarsely.

"Dead men tell no tales," hissed the stranger, and with a quick movement, he swung back an arm and backhanded 10K across the temple.

10K felt blood in his mouth again as his knees collapsed. Before he hit the floor, the stranger had grabbed him around the waist and slung him over a shoulder, like a sack of flour.

10K kicked forward with his knees, landing a hard blow on the man's sternum, and a second later he felt the metal prod being shoved into his side.

His body curled as volts of electricity bristling through his muscles, and the man carried him out of the room. His hands gripped involuntarily into the fabric at the back of the man's shirt as he continued to seize, until finally, he felt the voltage ease and he went limp once more.

He felt them come to an abrupt stop and he realized he had partially lost consciousness. Trying to lift his head up and look around them, he caught an upside-down glimpse of where they were. Dull reddish chains hung from the ceiling inside the room they had arrived outside of, and 10K could see drops of his own blood spattered on the dirty floor beneath the chains.

His heart raced as the man carried him over the threshold and back into the room where they had started.

"Put me down!" He gasped, giving a few hard struggles as they crossed the floor toward the center of the room.

With a menacing laugh, the man obliged. He dropped 10K off his shoulder. When the boy hit the floor he rolled on instinct, trying to catch himself on shaky arms. But before he could raise himself to his knees, a vicious blow connected with his ribs, throwing him back against the wall. He cried out in pain, pulling one of his arms down in front of his stomach to shield himself as he tried to straighten up. By the shattering pains that were spreading up his chest and down his arms with every breath, he knew several of his ribs had been broken by the kick.

The man approached him, leering. "Get up," he ordered.

10K didn't need telling twice. He got tremblingly to his feet, one hand against the wall for support, the other still curled around his ribs as he faced his captor.

"Sorry," said the stranger in an unapologetic murmur, glancing at the way 10K stood. "I probably didn't need to kick so hard. But you made me angry." He was looking at 10K with what could only be described as triumph.

10K kept his eyes on the man, and tried to calm his racing thoughts through the mind-numbing pain in his side. Would he be fast enough to slip by the man through the open door into the hallway? Then he'd make another break for it.. But no… the collar. The man would have him on the ground before he'd gotten ten feet… Was there anything he could use as a weapon? His eyes swept the bare room, finding nothing but dust and the unmade bed.

"Thinking of trying to run again?" The stranger demanded, amused as he studied 10K's face. "You won't get far. You'll only make it worse on yourself."

10K didn't respond as he continued to run through his options in his head. His heart sank lower and lower in his chest as the clarity of his situation made its way to the forefront of his pain-addled brain, and the pain in his ribs reached an almost unbearable height.

"Take off your shirt."

10K stared, completely breathless and without comprehension. "Wh…what?"

The stranger grinned darkly. "You deaf?"

10K didn't move, but his heartbeat sped up and his throat seemed to close of its own accord. He shook his head slowly one way and then the other, gritting his teeth together as he kept his eyes on the man.

"Do it. Now." The stranger held up the electric prod in one hand and the black remote in the other; a clear and unmistakable threat. "I reckon a shock from both of these at the same time might kill you, kid. Then I'd finally have another good zombie for the showcase… too bad the Murphy couldn't turn, too, or I'd almost have my old exhibit back… people would pay a lot to see that, I bet."

"Don't let me turn," said 10K in a voice that cracked with strain. "You gotta kill me the right way—"

"What fun would that be? Anyway, I'm not finished with you yet. I don't want to kill you. Hell, I didn't want to kill the Murphy, but he didn't give me a choice." The man got a sharper look in his eyes as he focused back in on 10K. "I thought I just told you to do something…"

"I won't," said 10K hoarsely, gripping his injured side more tightly.

The stranger let out a kind of hissing growl, moving forward toward 10K, who bent his knees, ready to dodge the attack, despite the sickening pain. But the stranger pressed firmly down on the remote, and for what felt like the hundredth time, high voltage coursed through 10K, and the world tilted as he fell, landing on his side and rolling onto his back. His broken ribs sent bolts of pain all through his body, and a second later, the man was above him again, throwing a leg over his middle and bending down to straddle his hips. He finally released the remote, and held 10K down with both hands against his chest. Gasping for air, eyes streaming from the heat of the searing pain in his broken bones, 10K reached up with one arm to try and shove him off, covering his side with his other arm in an attempt to protect his injury. His knees hit the man's back with little to no effect, and every breath he took sent shock waves of agony through his entire body.

"Get—off—" He cried, doing his best to keep the man's hands away from his injured ribs, but every time he moved either of his arms, the pain tripled. In a few moments he was forced to stop struggling, shutting his eyes tight and forcing back tears.

The man had stopped moving too. "That's better," he hissed, bending slightly closer. "Now… when I tell you to do something, YOU DO IT!"

10K felt flecks of spit hit him in the face. He kept his eyes squeezed shut and his face turned away.

Suddenly, the man raised himself a little, and started tearing at the front of 10K's shirt.

10K inhaled sharply, frantically trying to protect his side from being touched. "NO!" he shouted hoarsely as there was a ripping sound, and the cloth gave way. The man tugged and yanked it roughly until the shirt was split all the way down the front. Then he grabbed 10K by the shoulders, heaving him up, and flipping him over onto his stomach beneath him in one swift movement.

10K retched from the pain that hit him as his body weight crushed downward against his broken ribs. "Please…" he tried to say, but all that came out was a weak gasp.

The man had lowered himself down onto 10K again, sitting on his lower back, one knee on either side. 10K felt like he was slipping out of his body. A strange detachment overcame his senses, and the pain in his ribs lessened slightly as he gratefully welcomed this new state of consciousness without question. As though his body were at a great distance, he vaguely felt his shirt being ripped the rest of the way off, and his arms being twisted behind his back and bound tightly.

"…that's better…" echoed the stranger's voice from very far away, in some distant chamber of 10K's mind. "Not so hard to do as you're told…"

10K felt a hand gripping in the back of his hair, wrenching his head up off the floor. The man had his face against 10K's cheek, inhaling deeply and exhaling his foul breath on 10K's skin.

Foggily, he let it happen, appreciating that his body and mind were calmer now than they had been since before the apocalypse. It almost felt like nothing could really happen, nothing bad, because he wasn't really connected with his body just then. It seemed he was floating nearby it; he could see, hear, and feel what was happening, but it was as though the pain was coming from someone else, and somewhere else. It wasn't his body anymore, it wasn't his pain.

The man's voice echoed again from a great distance. "Get yourself together, kid… this isn't even the best part…"

 _You can't hurt me,_ 10K visualized himself saying the words, unsure whether or not they actually came out of his mouth. _Nothing you do matters. Nothing matters anymore…_ and an image of Murphy's lifeless body swam to the surface of his thoughts, the eyes rolling back in the head, the mouth slack, as blood burgeoned slowly from his chest.

"Hey! KID!"

10K opened his eyes. He hadn't realized he had closed them at all. There was a loud snapping sound in 10K's mind, and suddenly he was back in his body. The pain assaulted him anew, like white-hot knives slicing through his nerves, rolling through his stomach. He opened his mouth and took a few gasping breaths.

"Thank you," said the man's voice, dripping with malice and sarcasm. "Are you ready?"

With a great expense of effort, 10K tried to shake his head. "No…" he croaked. "You gotta get off me… my ribs…"

The man gave a derisive snort. "Oh, am I supposed to care that you have a boo-boo, after you destroyed my greatest works? The best accomplishment since before the zombies? People would have paid a fortune for that, you selfish prick!"

"You're insane… no one would have paid… there's no one left to come to your—stupid exhibit—"

The man's weight pushed down cruelly on the middle of 10K's back, forcing another weakened gasp of agony from his lips. "Watch yourself, boy! What is it with you? Seems like you don't care what you say, even when it makes me want to cut out your tongue! But no… I wouldn't do that, I'm not some barbarian. I just want what I want, what man doesn't?"

10K did not answer. He couldn't even struggle. Every shallow breath he took was like raging fire in his side. The way his arms were tied across his back kept a steady pressure against his broken ribs, pushing his blurry thoughts toward darkness once more. He fought the pain and the fog, even though the temptation of leaving his body again was almost overwhelming. But he couldn't fight the weight bearing down on him from behind. He couldn't even lift his head.

The man sat up again on the small of 10K's back, relieving a small amount of pressure from his ribs, but only a little. 10K felt the callused hands slide down across his skin, reaching around so they covered both the boy's hips momentarily. 10K ground his teeth together so hard he was sure the man could hear the sound.

The stranger grabbed ahold of the waistline of 10K's pants, pulling them hard. They slid down over 10K's hips and halfway over his backside, at which point the man stopped, letting out a low sound of anticipation.

"Please…" 10K muttered weakly. His face burned with the pain and the humiliation, and the sense of absolute helplessness seemed to double, letting loose the last of his self-control. His eyes filled with angry tears, which fell down his cheeks and hit the dirty floor. "Please don't…"

"Shut up," growled the man, "You're ruining it for me. Or are you making it better? I can't tell…" he laughed at himself, but the sound was less amused, and more deadly than anything else.

"You don't have to do this…" whispered 10K, his voice muffled.

The man's deadly laugh sounded again. "I know I don't have to. I want to. I've wanted to since I first saw you through the door…"

There was a heightened pressure against his injured side as the man pressed himself down on top of 10K again. He shifted his weight, digging his groin into the small of 10K's back, and maneuvering slightly so he was positioned against the boy's backside.

There was a stinging pain in 10K's back. He only barely felt it above the all-consuming throbbing in his broken bones that dominated his consciousness, but he realized the man's fingernails were digging into the skin on either side of his spine, scraping him hard enough to draw blood.

The fingernails moved downward, and the scraping became a gentle caress as the man pressed harder against his back, eliciting a fresh groan of pain from 10K. He felt his pants being tugged again; sliding lower, pulled almost all the way down, and then he felt the fingers in the elastic hem of his black briefs, pulling and yanking.

Suddenly, there was a loud, unexpected sound. The man let out a shocked grunt, and at the same time, he fell sideways off of 10K's back.

 **2 FLOORS BELOW, TEN MINUTES AGO…**

Roberta Warren and the others made their way up the stairs one behind the other, weapons drawn and at the ready. Warren's eyes were narrowed as they came out in the hallway above, aiming her gun through each open doorway they passed before moving on. Behind her, Addy, Doc, and Vasquez followed, all of them moving in crouching walks, staying close to the walls.

"Up there," hissed Warren, glancing back at them and tilting her head toward a door that was slightly ajar, a hundred yards ahead. Through the opening shone a dull, red light. "Come on…"

The group hugged the wall as they approached the door. Addy's knuckles were white around the handle of her pistol, and she drew a deep breath, before flanking Warren from the back and crossing over to the wall on the other side of the door. She gave Warren a determined nod, to which Warren replied with a nod of her own. Nodding quickly to the others, Warren pushed forward and swung the door the rest of the way open. She followed her gun through it, wielding it in every direction as the group came in behind her.

After a moment, Warren lowered her gun slightly, looking puzzled as she registered the state of the room. It was flooded by a red light, and filled with short podiums that seemed to be set up with care. She moved slowly past the first few platforms, the bewilderment growing on her face. Squinting through the semi-darkness, she tried to see what was written on one of the signs.

"What the… hell?" whispered Doc from the back of the group, his eyes flickering from one of the signs to the platform behind it, "Plant Woman?" But there was nothing behind the podium, or on any of the others around them. "Rad Man…?"

"There—" said Addy quietly, pointing ahead of them to where the reddish light brightened, and the room ended. There was a pile of still bodies on the floor in front of the last platform, which held an empty, throne-like chair. "I think they're dead."

The group surrounded the bodies that littered the floor. Warren kicked one of them over, staring down at it with a deep frown. "They were all Z's," she said in a troubled voice, gazing around at the other bodies. "Looks like they were all killed at once, by the same weapon... And that's definitely a phyto."

Addy stepped forward, also frowning. "How did a phyto get this far west?"

But Doc was looking thoughtful, an expression of understanding dawning on his face. "Plant Woman," he said, nodding. "Must mean phyto. And Rad Man? There's a blaster there, look. I think these zombies…" he trailed off uncertainly, frowning deeply.

"They were on display," Warren finished for him, her tone grim as she caught on. She looked around at the platforms with new comprehension and a large measure of disgust.

"Hang on… what's that?" Addy whispered, her eyes forward. She had spotted something on the last, and biggest, platform, beside the empty chair. She crossed to it and bent down, straightening up with a piece of painted cardboard in her hand. Her eyes skimmed it as she turned back to the group, but she stopped walking, her expression freezing mid-step.

"What is it?" Demanded Warren in an undertone, grasping her gun as she went to Addy's side, and looked down at the cardboard sign.

In bright letters, embellished with glittering paint, were the words, 'THE MURPHY, AND HIS AMAZING ZOMBIE BOY.'

The sound of a gunshot ripped through the air, and the entire group turned as one, their eyes fixed on the ceiling.


	6. Somehow

**A/N:** This is the next to last chapter, people :) Thank you so much for all your support and your feedback! Every single one of you is amazing. I'll thank each of you personally in chapter 7. Enjoy!

 **Chapter Six**

 **"Somehow"**

10K lay still, aware of the coldness of the hard floor pressing against his cheek. Aware of small drops of his own blood trickling slowly off his back and down his sides. Aware of not being able to breathe, for with every breath he took, the shooting, agonizing pains in his ribs jolted through his body, ten thousand times worse than any electricity. So he had stopped trying. He could still feel the man's leg draped over his hips, but somehow, he knew that the stranger wasn't moving anymore, either. The seconds seem to pass slowly, each trapped in its own eternity of timelessness, bringing no movement into the room around him, and bringing no breath into his lungs.

The room twisted as something grabbed him around the middle, pulling him forward, out from underneath the man's leg. He shut his eyes against the fresh round of lightning bolts in his chest, and kept holding his breath. There was a rustling somewhere beside him, followed by a small, metallic sound. Something pushed back and forth against the ropes binding his arms, and 10K felt the bindings come loose one by one, until his arms fell to his sides. He was flipped over gently and slowly, and came to rest face-up, being supported by something beneath his upper back. He kept his eyes shut as his head rolled back, and then he felt the back of his head being supported, too, propped against something warm. He still didn't open his eyes or draw in a breath.

Something was being pulled and yanked up his legs...maybe his pants... he couldn't tell, and he couldn't bring himself to care anymore.

Then there was a hand on his chest, against his cheek, and once more upon his chest, like it was searching for something. He wanted to reject it, to somehow end this new torment, but he'd lost feeling in his arms and legs. His thoughts were jumbled, and his heartbeat was steadily decreasing.

But he still didn't breathe. He didn't want to. He didn't want to open his eyes.

His body was given a gentle shake that sent new knives of jagged pain through him, but he ignored it, only wanting unconsciousness.

The shaking became more pronounced, and a voice came to 10K's attention through his foggy confusion. "Hey... hey, kid, breathe. Take a breath. Come on!"

In the distant corners of 10K's mind, he recognized the voice. He wanted to shake his head. _I can't,_ he wanted to say. _I'm trying to..._ and it was true. He was trying to breathe now, but he couldn't make his lungs work.

There was a sharp sting against the side of his cheek, and it brought him unwillingly back to semi-consciousness.

"That's it," said the familiar voice as he finally took a shuddering, pained breath. But he couldn't. It wasn't his choice anymore; he couldn't make his lungs work properly. He couldn't breathe. The air made him cough, a retching cough that spewed blood all down his front.

He felt himself tilted to one side, and the blood started streaming to the floor instead of back down 10K's throat.

"Come on, kid, stay with me..."

10K tried to breathe again, and retched more blood out of his lungs, his hands curling around the arm that supported his front. His eyes finally flickered open. He could see the side of the room, and a pair of legs behind his own, an arm circling around him, holding him slightly off the floor. He could see the boot that the stranger had been wearing, attached to a leg in his peripheral vision, not moving.

"Keep your eyes open, kid!"

The voice was clearer to 10K now, and the boy drew another retching, rattling breath, followed by another lungful of blood that spattered on the floor.

"Oh Jesus... keep breathing. Keep your eyes open, it's alright! You'll be okay, got it?"

10K took another heaving breath. He tried to turn his eyes to see who was holding him. Bluish skin swam into his line of sight, and a familiar face pinched tightly with tension.

As his eyes met Murphy's, 10K felt a sense of floating incredulity. He stared up at Murphy's face, bringing one of his arms across his injured side as he tried to keep breathing.

Murphy's eyes followed 10K's movement and he swore loudly, moving 10K's hand aside so he could see the skin underneath. A dark, swollen bruise covered most of the left side of 10K's ribs. The bruise was spreading, and swelling.

"Jesus..." muttered Murphy's voice angrily, tilting 10K's face to the side again as another bout of bloody coughing struck. "You punctured your damn lung, that's what I think you did, kid..."

Murphy's voice was getting fainter again as 10K's breaths came harder and harder once more. He wanted so much to speak... _I thought he killed you. You were dead..._ but nothing but a bubble of blood burst from his lips and he had to turn away from Murphy's face to cough painfully onto the floor again.

"Keep breathing, kid. Keep breathing, God damn it, I'm getting us out of here."

The agony rippling through 10K's side tripled as he felt himself being lifted up. For a split second, before his eyes shut and his lungs closed, he caught a glimpse of the stranger beside them on the floor, unmoving, a thick pool of blood gathering beneath his head. Then the pain overcame him again and his breathing stopped, sending him into a dark, endless cavern of nothingness, a black abyss. He let himself sink into it, not a true thought left in his head beside the image of Murphy's face, somehow very much alive, and somehow there with him...

 _The cavern into which he fell was deep, and vast. Pictures existed here, but no sound. There was his father, standing on the edge of the riverbank, surrounded on all sides by swaying grasses and green, dancing leaves. He was glancing up at 10K and smiling. "Alright, Tommy?" Said his father's calm voice as 10K took a step toward him... or did he float? He wasn't really using his legs, and he wasn't able to move much without them, as he soon realized. The image of his father fishing twinkled away into the darkness. Then there was Doc, standing right there next to him, throwing an arm round his shoulder and grinning down at him, punching him playfully in the gut. "Doc..." he wanted to say, grinning, too. "Doc, I was dying... Was that a dream?" But he couldn't speak, so his words made no sound in the deep cavern. Doc's eyes twinkled, and his image began to fade away in another glimmering burst. "No..." 10K tried to say, but the silence swallowed up his voice before it even left his mouth. "Doc, please stay...stay..." But the Doc was gone, and suddenly, Murphy was there, moving toward him, hands outstretched. "You..." 10K thought soundlessly. "You're alive... how?" Murphy said nothing, and there were four figures behind him in the glimmering shadows, shrouded in darkness. Narrowing his eyes, 10K focused on them, and Warren's face came to the forefront. She wasn't smiling. Behind her, Doc reappeared, watching 10K, and to his left, Addy and Vasquez were materializing in clouds of shimmery light. "You found us..." 10K thought, recognizing the huge relief as it covered him like a blast of heat._

"Nice of you to show up," growled Murphy breathlessly, leaning against the wall at the top of the staircase.

"Murphy!" Warren exclaimed, lowering her gun when she saw it was him. "What the hell is...?" She trailed off as she realized what her eyes were seeing. "MURPHY!"

"I think he's dying," panted Murphy, sweat pouring down his face. "We have to get him to the truck, he was breathing out blood..."

There were running footsteps as the group flashed up the rest of the stairs, hands encircling them on all sides. Warren's eyes swept behind and above them, on edge for more than one reason. "Murphy, where's...?"

"The guy's dead. I shot him in the head, with 10K's gun."

"Why did he do this?" Warren demanded, stuck between fury and horror.

"Later," Murphy shook his head. "I'll tell you what happened... first help me with him, I don't know if I can make it..." and as he spoke, his knees gave a violent tremble.

"Give him to me," came Vasquez's voice, and he moved forward to take 10K, with Doc closing in on one side to help. 10K's head rolled as he was transferred.

"Careful!" Snarled Murphy, trying to hold 10K's head still. "His lungs are full of blood, we got to get him..." his voice faded and his eyelids drooped as Vasquez and Doc took on 10K's slight weight. Without so much as another word, Murphy tipped forward, and he would have fallen down the stairs if both Warren and Addy hadn't been there to catch him.

"He's been shot!" Gasped Addy, staggering under Murphy's weight.

"Come on, we need to get them to a flat surface. Come on, let's move! Move!"

 **AN INDEFINITE AMOUNT OF TIME LATER...**

The first thing 10K realized upon his return to consciousness was that the pain in his ribs was greatly lessened. The second thing he noticed was that breathing was easier, and it didn't cause agonizing pain with every inhale. He took a deep breath, feeling noticeable pain in his ribs and chest, but he exhaled slowly, able to do both without retching. Thirdly, to 10K's alarm, someone was touching his face, brushing across it, and down his neck, across his collarbone.

A steep sense of sudden panic swept through him and his eyes flew open blindly. He reached up, pushing the hands away, trying to roll in the opposite direction, but something was keeping him in place. He was bound again!

"Doc, help me!" A nearby voice yelled fearfully. "10K, stop moving! You have to stop, just lie still!"

10K barely registered the words; he only knew that he was restrained again, and he couldn't move away. "Let - me go -" he gasped, choking on his own voice. "Get off - !"

"DOC! GET BACK HERE!"

Suddenly, 10K felt more hands holding him down. He struggled harder, but he was weak, and his panic was stripping him of any strength he might have had left. "Please..." he said, his voice cracking, but the hands held him more firmly.

"10K, it's us! Look at us, it's me!"

10K drew in sharp breaths, feeling a strange gurgling in his chest as his eyes started to see, and his mind started to think. He was lying on his back on a scratchy blanket laid on a kind of make-shift cot, and the blanket covered the lower half of his body. The edges of the cot were what had prevented him from rolling sideways... he blinked fast, trying to focus on the faces above him. Red hair came to distinction, and beside it, white, fly-away hair... he knew those faces...

"Are you with us?" One of them asked tensely.

It was Addy who had spoken. 10K stared at her face, unsure of whether or not he was still stuck in that strange, dark abyss, the memory of which was fading faster the longer he was awake. Slowly, his eyes moved over to the person next to her. It was Doc, and his blue eyes were very worried beneath drawn brows as he looked down at 10K, holding him still by the arms.

"Doc...?" He gave a rattling cough. "Addy..."

"He's back!" Doc exclaimed, shouting over his shoulder with barely restrained excitement.

That's when 10K realized they were moving. They were in the covered back of some kind of big truck, and they were driving. The road was bumping them gently up and down. "Wh..." 10K started, but he coughed again, and turned his head to the side.

"Shhhh," whispered Addy, and 10K felt the gentle wiping of his face and neck commence. "Don't talk. Just rest." She wrung out the bloody cloth in a water bowl beside them, and continued washing 10K clean.

"No," 10K protested, trying to push her hand away again. "No... where's... where's Murphy?"

Addy and Doc looked down at him for a moment. Then they moved apart so that 10K could see past them to the other side of the truck. Murphy lay on a blanketed cot, much like the one 10K was on, and his blue-lidded eyes were closed.

10K felt his veins freeze to ice. He could barely bring himself to ask. "Is he... is he dead?" He breathed, trying to swallow the words before they came out, with no success.

Addy looked over at Murphy, and then back down at 10K, shaking her head slightly. "No. He'll be alright."

10K closed his eyes, and let out a long, low breath. For a moment, he didn't want to move, or speak, or hear anything at all.

"We thought you were a goner, kid..." Doc told him, and 10K opened his eyes again, finding Doc's face in the blur. Doc looked as though he'd seen enough stress to put him in an early grave. "But you're okay! I told 'em, 'he's a survivor,' that's what I said. And you are, no one can deny it now."

"I think - I think he was dead..." 10K croaked, trying to turn and see Murphy again. Another bout of gurgling coughs hit him, but he tried to speak through it. "I think I... I think I - I was dead, too..."

"If you were dead, you'd have gone Z," Addy admonished gently, giving him a stern look. "Stop talking! Doc fixed something up for you, but if you push it, it could break."

10K looked down at himself in confusion. There was a clear piece of plastic tubing protruding from his chest, slightly to the left. With every breath he took, he could see a small amount of blood bubbling up into the tube, and back down again.

"It's the best I could do," Doc explained, putting a hand on 10K's shoulder. When 10K flinched slightly, trying to move away from the touch, Doc removed the hand, but stayed close, leaning over him beside Addy. "Got most of the blood out. The rest is up to your body. We have to let those ribs heal..."

10K felt an unexpected surge of frustration, and he shook his head stiffly. "Not me. Take care of Murphy, make sure he's alright, leave me be..."

"Murphy's fine. He's resting. The bullet missed his lungs, and his heart, and it wasn't a bleeder, so it must've missed any important veins and arteries, too," said Doc, glancing over at Murphy. "He'll be just fine, kid." There was an unmistakable note of surprise in his voice at 10K's concern for Murphy.

10K shook his head slowly. Why were they hovering around him? Why couldn't they leave him alone and take care of Murphy?

"How's your pain?" Doc asked, bending closer to study him.

10K didn't want to answer. Now that he was awake again, and now that they were back with the group, he didn't want to see any of them. He wanted to stay as far away from them as he could... he wanted to run, and never look back. He never wanted to think about what had happened in that house, ever again...

"Kid? How's your pain? I dosed you with some morphine, enough to kill a dog. You feeling any pain?"

10K closed his eyes and slowly shook his head from side to side.

"Don't talk to him, Doc," said Addy's voice firmly, but quietly. "The less talking he does right now, the better..."

The two of them went quiet, and 10K felt Addy's warm, wet cloth smoothing across his bloody skin again, continuing to wipe him clean. He didn't object, because he was sliding back into a heavy sleep.

The next time 10K awoke, everything was dark. He took a few deep breaths, craning his neck to try and see through the window in the back of the truck. A few stars shone down from outside, but there was no telling what time it was.

He turned to look at Murphy's cot, and stopped all his movement, staring in surprise.

Murphy's eyes were open, and he was looking back at 10K.

They watched each other in silence for a good long minute, neither of them moving, or speaking. The only sound was the steady whirring of the truck tires against the patchy road, and the occasional gust of wind howling through the cracks at the top of the closed truck windows.

After the prolonged silence, Murphy finally spoke. "So, you're alive." His voice was careful, and restrained.

10K swallowed. He nodded once, slowly. "So are you..."

Murphy grunted. "Yeah...if you can call it that. But here we are."

10K didn't answer, but he didn't look away. He couldn't seem to bring himself to look away.

"Thanks for not dying on me, kid."

10K didn't know what to say to that. He swallowed hard, finally looking away from Murphy, fixing his eyes on the truck ceiling, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. There was another silence that stretched on for what seemed like ages.

"Hey," said Murphy quietly. When 10K didn't look back at him, he said it a little louder. "Hey. Kid, look at me."

Reluctantly, as though it was the last thing on planet earth that he wanted to do just then, 10K turned his head and looked back over at Murphy.

"Don't think on it," said Murphy, and there was something close to his old growl in his voice. "Don't think on it, just get healed up. You hear?"

10K looked away again, back to the ceiling. He didn't have to ask what Murphy was referring to. He knew exactly what he didn't want to think about, and it was somehow so much worse that Murphy knew it, too. He reached one of his hands up to his chest, to touch the plastic tube there.

"Don't ignore me, kid. You listen, and you listen good." He didn't wait for 10K to look at him again. "That was yesterday. Tomorrow's a new day, got it? You'll be one day closer to slinging shots again, and everything that happened stays in the past, where it belongs. Everything'll go back to how it was."

10K wanted to say, _How? How will it be the same? How can I stay...?_ But he remained silent, glancing slowly over at Murphy, who looked determinedly back at him. They locked eyes, and 10K found again that despite all his thoughts, all his anger, and confusion, he couldn't look away, and he was holding on to Murphy's words once more.


	7. Stay

**Chapter Seven**

 **"Stay"**

The next few days passed in a confused blur of familiar faces and bandage changes. Doc continued to dose 10K with morphine, until the afternoon came when he told them all he had run out. 10K didn't mind too much about that at first... the pain wasn't so bad, anyway. It wasn't until later that evening that the reason for his lack of feeling was made painfully clear, and at that point, he would've given an arm and a leg for another dose of the medication.

By moon rise on the third night, every small bump in the road was sending sharp, hot pains through his chest and down his arms, making it almost impossible for him to move. He hid it well, grinding his teeth together every time it became too much, and shutting his eyes, pretending to be asleep so no one would notice or try to speak to him. But every time they heard his breathing hitch, the others stopped what they were doing to look at him, and Warren would ease up a little on the gas pedal.

Addy was usually there in the back with 10K and Murphy, sponging their faces with cool water in an effort to keep their temperatures down, and making sure their bandages were clean. Warren took most of her shifts at the wheel, until she was too tired to see straight, and then Vasquez would take over. Doc was the most helpful, 10K thought. Addy kept any infection away with her nursing, but Doc had a way of lightening the mood in the truck just by his very presence. Whenever 10K was able, Doc would sit beside him, telling funny stories, and making jokes. For 10K's benefit, he would usually pretend not to notice whenever the pain started to overwhelm his young friend - that was what 10K appreciated the most.

Then there were those silent hours, in the middle of the night, when everyone except Warren or Vasquez was sleeping, and Murphy and 10K were alone in the back. Murphy tried to talk to 10K on several of those occasions, but 10K would feign sleep, not wanting to talk, or think, or feel. Guilt had started building up like heavy bricks in his gut every time he did this. Murphy had saved his life, and he had stopped the stranger from doing whatever he had wanted to do. But somehow, 10K found it harder and harder to accept the idea that Murphy had been there at all. Murphy didn't press it, but 10K often felt the man's eyes on him in the darkness, when most everyone else was sleeping.

The fourth morning since the escape dawned gray and foggy, and the group started waking up in the truck one by one. 10K was already awake; it was hard for him to sleep at all in the bumpy truck since the morphine had run out. He craned his neck to see the front seat, and saw Warren yawn widely at the wheel, giving her head a shake to stave off fatigue, before pressing the brakes and pulling the truck off to the side. The vehicle bumped roughly across the shoulder of the road, and 10K winced, quickly laying flat again.

"Alright, kids," said Warren quietly, turning around in her seat once the truck had come to a stop. She peered over the rows where the others had been sleeping and into the back of the truck, giving 10K and Murphy a thorough once-over. Then she turned to the others, who were starting to sit up in their seats. "That's a town up there. We need more bandages, and antibiotics, gas... and I need back up. We can't take the truck... the last thing we need is to draw in the Z's, with Murphy down for the count."

"I'll go," said Addy immediately, stretching her arms and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She put her hand down on the spiked weapon she'd laid by her feet. "But aren't you tired, Warren? You've been driving all night."

"What's new?" said Warren dryly, shaking her head. "No, I'm fine. If we get what we need, I can sleep easier, and one of you can take over for the next hundred miles."

"I'll come with you, too," said Vasquez, sitting up and checking his sidearm. "Where are you thinking we'll find this stuff?"

Warren gazed out the window across the flat, dry landscape, where the first few houses could be seen on the outskirts of town. "I'm hoping a pharmacy will have some left over medicine and gauze, but if not, we'll have to check the hospital. Maybe even a veterinary clinic, or something. Vasquez, will you grab the gas cans? Doc - stay with 10K and Murphy?" Warren tilted her head toward the back of the truck.

Doc gave a bleary nod, still shaking off sleep. "Sure thing."

"There's half a roll of bandages left in the kit. Use it for 10K; Murphy's wound is healing pretty clean."

"You got it, sarge. Murphy's wound needs air now, anyway, at least for a couple hours a day."

With a grateful nod, Warren pushed open her door and hopped down to the ground, pulling her handgun out of its holster as a precaution. "Anything happens, you just drive," she ordered Doc. "We still have to get Murphy to California in one piece." She stuck the keys up under the driver's side visor as Addy and Vasquez exited the truck on the other side.

"We won't be long," said Warren over her shoulder to Doc, before leading the others out across the short stretch of desert.

As soon as the muted sound of their footsteps faded into silence, 10K heard Doc turn in his seat to look back at them. The man didn't say anything, probably not wanting to wake either of them up. There was the squeaking sound of fabric on leather as Doc moved his way forward to the front seat, and a second later, the radio turned on. The static buzzing of empty frequencies was interrupted by short clicks as Doc moved through the stations. He went through the dial several times with no results, before finally giving up with a muttered swear.

10K opened his eyes, and looked over at Murphy. Murphy's eyes were open too, and he appeared to be looking out the window, but he turned his head toward 10K when he saw the boy's movement out of the corner of his eye.

10K looked away, inexplicably embarrassed.

"How you feeling, kid?" came Murphy's gruff voice, loud in the early morning stillness.

"Good. I'm good," he answered quickly, without taking his eyes off the ceiling. A stab of pain laced with guilt made its way through his chest.

"Yeah? Well you look half-dead," said Murphy, not trying to be funny. "You need to drink water when they offer it."

"It's fine, I'm not thirsty." But 10K's voice cracked in his parched throat.

As though Doc had been waiting to hear them awaken, he climbed back over the seats, dragging a canvass bag, and knelt down between the two cots, leaning against the back of the last row of seats. "Didn't know you two were awake," he said, opening the bag and giving them a light smile.

Murphy grunted. "We wouldn't be, if you hadn't gone and turned on that damn radio. When are you gonna give up on that 'Citizen Z' guy?"

"He's still out there," said Doc, unperturbed by Murphy's tone. "What d'you think he's up to, up there at the top of the world?"

"Don't care."

Doc shook his head, turning to 10K. "What about you?" He asked. "You doing alright?"

10K nodded. "I'm fine."

"Good. You're definitely breathing better, and you're talking a hell of a lot better."

10K nodded again, wishing he hadn't stopped pretending to be asleep. Lately, he'd been thankful for Doc's uplifting presence, but not right now.. not when only he, Doc and Murphy were in the truck. Silence would have been better. An uncomfortable, unsettled feeling was creeping through him that had nothing to do with the pain in his chest.

"The others have gone into town for supplies, left me in charge of you two," Doc explained, lifting up the canvass bag. "Have some water, here." He dug a water bottle out of the bag, uncapped it, and stuck in a straw, handing it over toward 10K.

10K was about to refuse, but he thought of what Murphy had said, and rather than evoke another conversation about it, he reached out and reluctantly took the bottle. He didn't have to move his head to drink from the straw, and Doc looked pleased when he took a few sips.

"That's better. I was starting to worry about you, not drinking, not eating, not pissing..."

10K swallowed another sip, then handed the bottle back to Doc. "Thanks," he said quietly, reaching up to wipe his mouth.

Doc took the bottle back. "Don't thank me, kid. Just heal yourself up." He stuffed the water back inside the bag, and drew out a small roll of white bandages. "Speaking of that, let's get those bandages freshened up." He started to unroll a strip of gauze.

"No - no, it's fine," said 10K, suppressing a sudden surge of anxiety. "I don't need it."

Doc paused, and looked up, an unbelieving look on his face. "Have you looked at yourself lately? You're still leaking blood, kid. Anyway, it's Warren's orders. She and the others'll bring back more bandages, maybe even some pills." He went back to unrolling the gauze.

10K swallowed hard around a lump in his throat, throwing a nervous glance over at Murphy without meaning to, before looking back at Doc. "Doc, no... really, I'm fine," he said hoarsely, mentally kicking himself. What was his problem? What was he thinking? He trusted Doc with his life, just like he had ever since meeting him... but he didn't want him changing any bandages. It was a new, wary instinct that he couldn't ignore, despite knowing how unnecessary it was.

"Don't argue with the doctor, kid. Infection's the last thing you need, believe me."

"What about Murphy? You can do his bandages - Addy will be back with more soon, she can do mine herself, she's done it this long..."

"Mine don't need a change," said Murphy, and to both 10K's and Doc's surprise, he sat up on his cot and swung his legs over the side, only grimacing a little. "I'm not even bleeding anymore. But you are, kid."

10K felt a flare of anger, which was immediately replaced by another pang of guilt. "No," he insisted, never-the-less. "I don't need it."

Doc paused again, a deep frown creasing his brow. He stared at 10K in confusion, and glanced over his shoulder at Murphy. "What's the matter, kid?" He finally asked, turning back to 10K.

"Nothing's the matter, I just don't want it, okay?" 10K met Doc's eyes.

Murphy glared across the space between them, looking between Doc and 10K. After a moment, he gave his chest a slight scratch. "I'll do it," he told Doc, standing with what looked like some difficulty, and moving across the aisle between the cots.

"No!" Growled 10K, and it made him cough, sending a few bubbles of blood up through the tube in his chest.

Doc sat back, looking thoroughly bewildered as he watched Murphy kneel beside him, next to 10K's cot.

"No," growled 10K again, shaking his head. "I mean it, I don't need it! Wait till Addy gets back - "

"No," Murphy echoed 10K's growl, and 10K fell silent. "It needs to be changed, so that's what we're going to do. They could be hours in town, so shut your mouth, and let me do it. Got it?" Even though his words were harsh, there was something softer in his eyes, and in the blue lines of his face.

10K didn't say anything, but he didn't try to move away as Murphy took the roll of gauze from Doc and tore off a few long strips.

As Murphy worked, 10K tried to avoid his gaze, but he couldn't help noticing how uncharacteristically gentle the man was being. Even so, the uncomfortable feeling in 10K's gut was building to new heights, so much so that he wanted to crawl out of his skin and burrow under the truck. He hated the feeling...it didn't make any sense, and he couldn't understand it, but he couldn't banish it, either, no matter how hard he tried.

Murphy laid the last strip of gauze around the tubing on 10K's chest, securing it with a length of medical tape, and held up the last few bits of bandage. "There's even some left over."

Doc was still watching them with a mixture of confusion and doubt on his face. When Murphy half-stood, Doc reached out and grabbed his arm. "Hey, Murphy... think you can make it out the back? Some fresh air might do some good."

Murphy opened his mouth to declare his skepticism, but closed it, catching the look in Doc's eye. He glanced back down at 10K, nodding once. "Sure, why not? Holler if you need anything, kid."

10K watched them move to the back and open the door. Doc jumped down and then turned to help Murphy, careful not to let him land too hard. Then, with a last look in at 10K, and a worried smile, he closed the door.

 **TEN MINUTES LATER, OUTSIDE THE TRUCK...**

"Why the hell didn't you say anything about it sooner?!"

"Will you keep your voice down? It wasn't my place to tell anyone, it's his. Anyway, I have a good guess he doesn't want anyone knowing. He won't even look at me, 'cause he knows I know."

"Not your - not your place - you dumb, stubborn, zombie-headed idiot, you can't keep something like that from me!"

"Shut up, Doc! You want him to hear you?"

"You idiot... you idiot, no wonder he won't let us touch him. I can't believe you didn't say anything..." Doc ran a hand down his face, and leaned back against the closed door of the truck, bending down to brace his arms on his knees.

Murphy looked away, searching for words. "I didn't say anything 'cause the last thing he needs is to see it in your eyes that you know what happened," he finally said, looking grimly back at Doc. "He doesn't need to be thinking about it right now. Or hell, ever again - "

Doc stood up and shoved Murphy hard by both shoulders, hard enough that Murphy tripped backward before getting his balance again, gripping at his chest.

"Damn it, Doc, I've been shot! Are you trying to kill me?"

Doc took a few steadying breaths, glaring at Murphy. After a few prolonged minutes of silence, he opened his mouth, shut it, then opened it again. "Damn it..." he muttered, running his hand over his forehead again and leaning back against the truck. "I can't believe it. That sick, depraved... who the hell would go and...?" He stopped, levelling his gaze at Murphy again. "I knew you weren't telling us something. Well, what the hell are we supposed to do?"

"How should I know?"

"You were with him, you could help. You could say something - "

"I've tried a hundred times. He won't listen. He won't even look at me..." It was Murphy's turn to trail off, and for the first time since knowing him, Doc thought the man looked helpless.

"We have to do _something_ ," Doc insisted, out of breath. "We can't just ride off into the sunset, him thinking that's okay, thinking that's normal, that someone else might... that one of US might turn on him like that.."

"Trust me, he doesn't think it's okay." Murphy kicked angrily at a stone, sending it skipping across the sandy ground. "But he doesn't trust us. And... I have no idea what to do."

"We have to do something."

"Well, you let me know if you have any bright ideas, will you?" Snapped Murphy, angry now.

"You're the one he's listening to right now. God knows I never thought you had it in you, but there's something between the two of you now, some kind of bond. So do something about it."

 **INSIDE THE TRUCK...**

10K lay still, his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on the closed back door. He could hear raised voices, and snatches of the conversation from outside. Enough to leave him in no doubt that he was the subject of their discussion, but no matter how hard he listened, he couldn't make out exactly what they were saying. It left him feeling empty, and hollow. His breathing was slow and deliberate, but his mind had gone somewhat blank. He couldn't see a way out of it. Soon, all of them would know what had happened. He didn't mind so much if Addy knew... but the others; Warren, and Vasquez; what would they think of him? Would they treat him differently?

He startled as the back door was pulled open and Doc appeared, with Murphy behind him. Doc's face was shiny and his neck was red; he looked much the worse for wear. 10K didn't say anything as Doc climbed back up into the truck, and pulled Murphy in after him. He didn't say anything as the two of them settled themselves in their former places, Doc leaning against the back row of seats, and Murphy sitting on his makeshift cot. They had left the back door open, and a warm breeze ghosted in, ruffling 10K's hair. He still didn't speak.

Doc and Murphy seemed out of breath, and they were just as silent as 10K. It was easily the most painful silence that 10K had ever experienced, and it seemed to stretch on for an eternity. The tension could have been cut with a knife.

After what seemed like an hour of holding his breath, 10K heard Doc inhale sharply. "Listen, kid..." he started, looking over at 10K and reaching out a hand to the edge of his cot. 10K didn't move or flinch. "What.. what happened to you, well... I won't ever let anything like that happen again."

10K cast around in his thoughts for something to say, for a way to respond, but he could only see Warren, Addy, and Vasquez in his mind's eye. He gave an involuntary shudder.

Doc saw this, and he moved closer, reaching his hand out like he wanted to put it on 10K's shoulder, but he wasn't sure if he should. "You can trust me, 10K. I love you, kid."

At Doc's words, 10K felt a wall crumbling. He tried to hold onto it, tried to keep it in place, but he couldn't. And he didn't even want to. He knew Doc was telling the truth. The backs of his eyes burned with held-back tears. "Don't tell the rest of them," he pleaded, almost in a whisper.

"Okay," said Doc, sounding immensely relieved that 10K had spoken. "Okay, we won't. If you ever want to, you can, but I give you my word, I won't tell them."

10K's eyes flickered over to Murphy, and a tear escaped, sliding down his cheek.

Murphy watched him from across the aisle, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. "I won't tell 'em either," he promised, swallowing. "Hand to God, not a word. But kid... You gotta know. Doc's right. We won't let something like that happen again... you have to trust us."

10K didn't say anything. Instead of the all-consuming, inescapable humiliation he'd been fearing would overwhelm him if anyone ever spoke about what had happened, a sense of calm was draping over him like a blanket. Another tear fell down his cheek and he wiped it away, taking in as deep a breath as he could. The unsettled feeling, the discomfort he'd felt at being alone with Murphy and Doc, was being replaced by calm, tired resignation.

"D'you... d'you want some time alone?" Doc asked cautiously, and 10K saw that the older man's eyes were shining with carefully controlled emotion.

Doc made to stand, but 10K lifted his hand and closed it around Doc's wrist before he even knew what he was doing. "Stay," he said under his breath.

Doc sank back to the floor, and reached over with his other hand to cover 10K's fingers. "Okay," he said, and he didn't say anything else. But he didn't move from that spot, and 10K didn't let go of his arm. They stayed that way until 10K drifted off to sleep, the first real sleep he'd gotten in over two days. His fingers loosened around Doc's wrist, and Doc lifted up the boy's arm, letting it rest on the cot at 10K's side. He stared at the boy's face for a long moment, then reached out, pulling the blanket up to just below 10K's chest, and gently brushing some hair away from his forehead. "You're gonna be okay, kid," he whispered. "You're a survivor."

Behind them, Murphy watched in silence, and ran a hand over his short hair. Doc turned to look at him, his light blue eyes yielding depths of unspeakable worry. "It's up to us then," he told Murphy. "Warren can't fix this, Addy can't... we can't, either. But we're gonna see him through it."

Murphy nodded slowly, looking back down at 10K. "That's the first time he's said anything about it out loud," he said quietly. "He trusts you. I was right to tell you." It was like he was trying to convince himself.

"Yeah, you were. And you're gonna help me deal with it."

 _ **Fin**_

 **A/N: Thank you to everyone who supported this story! There may be a sequel coming, because you all inspire me so much!**


End file.
